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[spencereliotwinchester]

That Summer Storm Chapter Two

Title: That Summer Storm Chapter Two

Chapter Title: Once Upon a Midnight Dreary

Author: Kat

Reader Gender: Female

Word Count: 2k

Series Summary:

Jensen kept his eyes on the floor, but nodded his understanding. He was too scared to look up into the guard’s face; he didn’t even trust his voice not to break. He didn’t look up until he heard the click-lock sound of his door. The room was very small. Along one wall was a set of metal-framed bunk beds. The far wall had a small desk with a stool. Opposite the bunk beds was a toilet and sink.

He sat down on the bottom bunk, head in his hands. I shouldn’t be here, I’m only fifteen, the thought ran through his head on a loop. This was not how his life was supposed to go. Jensen rubbed his knuckles into his forehead, hard. The sobs of his mother would haunt him. It had been all he could hear the entire van ride back to juvenile hall.

Warnings: There will be feelings!

Chapter Warnings: Solitary Madness, anxiety attack

Catch Up HERE

A/N: Little bit longer of a chapter. Next one may be a bit shorter. Please please please reblog or let me know what you think!!

Character: Jensen Ackles

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Tags:

@iwantthedean@lyarr24@janicho88@deans-baby-momma@sandlee44@mrswhozeewhatsis@blacktithe7@torn-and-frayed@the-jette-blog@supernatural-jackles@sacriceria@siospins@negans-lucille-tblr@eve-loves-apples@myinconnelly1@mariekoukie6661@stoneyggirl2@thisisallicansay@jjrp-obsessed67@amyzombie1013@mrskcreeves95

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The door click-locked shut and Jensen pressed himself into the corner of the room. He was hyperventilating and failing to calm himself down. Pressing his entire side into the cool wall and squeezing his eyes shut, Jensen tried to block out everything except the feeling of the wall. It barely registered that the door to the room opened and shut again.

“What are you doing?” It was the same voice that came to his rescue out in the yard, though it sounded reproachful. Padalecki moved around the room for awhile, pacing, then Jensen heard the top bunk bed creak. “Don’t let Roger catch you like that. He’ll throw your ass in solitary-”

“There’s too much space!” Jensen gasped. He slid down the wall, crouching in the corner.

“Jesus, did Tito dose you or something?” The bed creaked again, then there were footsteps coming toward Jensen.

Jensen started trembling, thinking back to Padalecki’s words: “he’s mine.” He’d heard stories about detention centers, stories that made his skin crawl. Now here he was, about to live through it. Instead of the rough hands Jensen had expected, a blanket was wrapped around him, tightly. The pressure around his body let him relax, finally. Jensen opened his eyes and was met with the hazel-brown eyes of his roommate.

Padalecki was tall, taller even than Jensen. He was lean and well built though. His eyes were hard, though, unkind, which was completely unmatching his actions. Padalecki had the blanket in his hands, pulling it as tightly as he could around Jensen’s body.

“Chill out, will you, Jensen? Fucking stupid name, by the way,” Padalecki said, rolling his eyes. He tied the blanket and moved away from Jensen, climbing back up to the top bunk.

Jensen moved to his bunk, slowly. He curled up as close to the wall as he could. He pulled the blanket tightly around him.

“It was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea, that a maiden there lived whom you may know by the name of Annabel Lee; and this maiden she lived with no other thought than to love and be loved by me,” Padalecki’s voice was soft as it drifted from the top bunk. “I was a child and she was a child, in this kingdom by the sea, but we loved with a love that was more than love - I and my Annabel Lee - With a love that the winged seraphs of Heaven coveted her and me.”

Padalecki read the entire poem in his soft, calming voice. By the end, Jensen’s breathing had finally returned to normal and he felt better than he had since he’d been arrested.

“Thanks, Padalecki,” Jensen whispered; he was unsure if Padalecki had even heard him.

“You can call me Jared,” came a few minutes later.

--May 1996--

Life at Travis County Correctional became a mundane routine for Jensen. Monday through Friday they had school and on the weekends they had more recreational time, but the schedule never deviated. Jensen and Jared had even fallen into a nightly routine, at nine pm they were sent to their room and had one hour of quiet time before lights out. They would get into their respective bunks and Jared would quietly read from his one and only possession: The Complete Tales & Poems of Edgar Allan Poe. They’d gone through the whole book at least three times, but neither of them seemed to care.

Late one night, Jensen was suddenly startled awake by the sound of laughing. It started as a low snicker but quickly worked itself up into shrieks. Jensen scrambled out of bed to find Jared sitting at the desk. He turned quickly and locked eyes with Jensen. There was no mirth in his laughter and his eyes were black and dangerous looking. Jensen’s heart was suddenly in his throat and he backed up until he came into contact with the door.

“Jared?” Jensen’s voice quivered in fear.

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious of forgotten lore - While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door…” Jared’s voice was suddenly smooth, even, and it scared Jensen even more. Jared pointed a finger at Jensen, indicating to him to continue.

“‘Tis some visitor,’” Jensen squeaked, but his voice failed him. He turned and pressed the emergency call button that was located to the right of the door. Jared started laughing again, low and evil. He was still laughing when Barney, the night guard, came through the door. Jensen threw himself into the corner.

“There better be someone…” Barney’s voice died out as his flashlight fell on Jared, still laughing maniacally.

Barney called into his radio for backup and it was quick to arrive. They carted Jared off, but Barney stayed behind. He was a middle-aged black man, with kind brown eyes, and a little extra weight around his middle. His radio crackled, but Jensen couldn’t understand a word that was said.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said, helping Jensen to his feet.

“What?” Jensen’s brow furrowed.

“We gotta toss the room for drugs.”

Barney silently led Jensen through a labyrinth of dark hallways then through a door marked “Pod S.” A guard at a desk glanced up at Barney, nodded, and went back to his book. Barney prodded Jensen through a barred gate. They were now in a dead-end hallway with doors on either side. Barney opened door number one and lightly pushed Jensen inside. Barney gave him a sad, almost guilty look, before shutting the door. It click-locked with a finality that scared Jensen.

The only reason he wasn’t shrouded in complete darkness was the window in the door. The room he was in was small, much smaller than his normal cell. Everything was padded and the only furniture in the room was a small cot on the floor. A low rumble of thunder startled him and he wished he were back in his normal cell. Within minutes the building shook and shuddered from violent crackling booms of thunder. Jensen curled himself on the cot and wrapped the blanket around himself as tightly as he could.

He couldn’t sleep with the raging storm outside and his heart was still hammering from what had happened with Jared. Jensen looked around the padded room. Another clash of thunder. Jensen wondered what time it was, he wondered how long they were going to leave him here, and he wondered why they’d left him here. Jensen closed his eyes and started humming, trying to drown out the noise of the storm raging outside.

The storm was still going full force when the fluorescent lights clicked on. Six am. Jensen sat up on the cot, wrapping the blanket more tightly around himself. Soon, the door would unlock, and Roger would take him to breakfast. Jensen would welcome the sight of even Roger’s unfriendly face instead of the white padded room he was in.

Jensen counted the minutes until seven am. Nothing happened. At seven forty-five, there was a clicking sound. Jensen walked over to the door, expecting it to open. Instead, a rectangular hatch in the door was opened downward, creating a little table and a tray of food was set down.

“What’s happening?” Jensen yelled.

There was no response.

Eventually, the tray of food was taken out of the door and the hatch was closed and locked. Jensen paced the small room, seven steps, turn, four steps, turn, seven steps, turn, four steps, turn, seven… Alone. His thoughts matched in time with his steps. Completely alone. No one will come for you. All alone.

“Alone…”

Jensen froze. It had been a whisper, sure, but… It couldn’t be. Jensen took a deep, shaky breath. Get hold of yourself, Ackles, he thought. He rubbed his knuckles hard into his forehead. It was nothing, his mind was playing tricks on him.

“It is nothing but the wind in the chimney,” Jensen recited out loud. “It is only a mouse crossing the floor,-”

“Or it is merely a cricket which has made a single chirp!”

Jensen whirled around, his heart hammering in his throat again. The door to the padded cell was open and in the doorway was an old gentleman in a collared shirt, an argyle sweater vest, pressed pants, and loafers.

“Poe at his best! That’s one of my favorites as well. Care to have a seat, Jensen?”

Jensen slowly sat down on the cot, not taking his eyes off the man. Jensen realized the room was very quiet now, the storm must have died down while he was lost in his thoughts. The man brought with him a stool as well as a briefcase and he sat down across from Jensen. A young woman brought in her own stool and sat down in the corner. The door closed and click-locked.

“My name is Dr. Langstrom and this is one of my students, Abigail. I want to talk to you about what happened last night, and I’ll need to take some blood,” the man introduced himself, then took a small journal from his pocket along with an expensive looking pen.

“Is Jared okay?” Jensen chewed on his bottom lip.

“Don’t worry, now are you scared of needles?” The doctor asked and he began to take some plastic wrapped items out of the briefcase.

“No, but, why are you taking blood?” Jensen asked, holding out his arm.

“Just make sure everything’s alright with you.”

Dr. Langstrom took an alcohol wipe and rubbed Jensen’s arm. With his tongue sticking between his teeth, the doctor squinted at the needle. Then he paused for a moment, and pulled out a package of gloves and put them on. He took the needle again and pricked it into Jensen’s arm and Jensen hissed. Then, Dr. Langstrom actually moved the needle around, attempting to find a vein.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, sorry, let me try again,” Dr. Langstrom said vaguely.

“Doc, the tourniquet,” Abigail prompted.

“Yes, yes! That’s right!”

Dr Langstrom pulled the strip of rubber from his bag and wrapped it around Jensen’s upper arm. His second, third, and fourth attempts were no better than the first, however.

“Um, Doc, would you like me to do that? I just finished my lab rotation,” Abigail spoke quietly from the corner.

“Of course Abigail, that would be wonderful. I haven’t drawn blood in fifteen or twenty years.”

Abigail put on a pair of gloves and switched places with the doctor. She adjusted the tourniquet tighter and then she calmly took the needle and palpated Jensen’s arm. With one smooth movement, the needle was in and blood trickled into the waiting vial.

“Now, Jensen,” Dr. Langstrom started after Abigail finished drawing his blood. “Can you tell us what happened last night? Did Jared take anything?”

“I don’t know. I woke up and he was laughing. I hit the call button and Barney came in,” Jensen explained simply, picking at a loose thread on his jumpsuit.

“That’s all?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jensen shrugged.

“Were you attacked? Did he bite you or spit at you in any way?”

“What? No,” Jensen’s worry bled into his words.

“Good, good. Are you feeling well? No feelings of euphoria or despair?”

“I’m fine,” Jensen said through gritted teeth. “What’s happening with Jared? Where is he?”

“Good, good. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you anything about Jared.”

Jensen mulled that over for a moment. Then, his bladder reminded him it’d been way too long since his last bathroom visit.

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“I’ll let the guard know.”

Abigail and Dr. Langstrom gathered their things and knocked on the door. It opened for them and closed behind them. Then, the hatch opened.

“Present yourself to be cuffed, Ackles,” came a deep baritone voice.

Jensen slid his hands through the hatch and winced as handcuffs were tightened around his wrists. Jensen stepped back and the door opened. He was taken to a small bathroom and then straight back to the padded cell. All attempts at talking to the guard were met with stony silence. Once back in the room, handcuffs removed, Jensen sat down on the cot.

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