Archive of Our Own ^beta

  It was the night before Jared and Genevieve's first day of college and they should have been asleep, but instead, they were getting illegally shit-faced on the roof the library where Gen had started working, concealed from the eyes of normal people by magic, discussing everything from soulmates to astronomy to Misha's pet guinea pig named Sam. 

  Currently, they were on the topic of familiars. 

  "You're definitely going to need one," Genevieve insisted, voice high like it always got after drinking. "Your ancestor was Rowena. Dude, the Rowena, greatest witch ever. And you're already, like, so powerful."

  Jared giggled. "You're a lot nicer to me when you're drunk."

  The brunette witch scowled. "My point," she said with great emphasis. "Is that you must have a familiar."

  "I hope it's a dog," Jared said dreamily. "Dogs are… Dogs, man."

  For a few minutes, they sat in silence, both of them staring up at the stars and contemplating domestic canines. 

  Then Genevieve clapped her hands once. "You should do the spell!" She half-yelled. "You should find your familiar and track it down. Then when you're of age and they tell you to bind your magic, you won't have to waste any time."

  Jared was nodding along slowly. "That's a good idea," he said fervently. 

  It took them a second to remember how to get rid of the alcohol in their veins. At eighteen, sobriety spells were very important if you wanted to avoid being hungover in front of your parents or teachers. 

  Genevieve lived right next to the library. So it only took them five minutes to set up a wooden bowl filled with dark oil on the center table of her living room. 

  Jared looked down at the grimoire, at the page Genevieve had flipped to. If he did it right, he'd be able to see a reflection of his familiar.

  "Invenire aliam medietatem,” he chanted under his breath. “Ostende mihi cor meum.”

  The surface of the oil rippled. Jared and Genevieve held their breaths.

  Faint colours began to appear. Pale gold, pink…

  For a second, Jared wondered idly if his familiar was a golden retriever. That’d be awesome. But if it was, like, a weird cat or something, then-

  The image turned clear, fully formed. A young face stared back at them, handsome, smiling- a man.

  It took a few seconds of incomprehension until Jared suddenly realized what this meant.

  “Oh my god,” Genevieve breathed out, shocked and a little worried.

  Jared could almost have denied it, but his friend’s reaction only confirmed what he was seeing.

  “There… There hasn’t been a human familiar,” Genevieve murmured. “Since…”

  “1970s,” Jared finished for her. He felt faint all of a sudden. Because human familiars were powerful. And very rare. And good thing too, because who would want to bind their whole life, heart and soul, to a witch? With animals, it was easy, simple. But humans were complex, full of thoughts and feelings and opinions- there was literally no instance of a platonic bond between a witch and their human familiar. “Gen…”

  “I know.” Her small hand stroked his back in comfort. “I know, baby.”

  “I can’t… I can’t do that to him… To anyone…”

  “I know,” Genevieve assured. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you won’t ever need a familiar.”

  Jared couldn’t help a broken little laugh, because they both knew the chances of that. “Shit.”

  “Sums it up,” Genevieve agreed. She hesitated for a second. “Maybe you could track him down? Just to meet him…?”

  Jared was shaking his head before she finished talking. “No. You know how the connection works. The second I see him, I’m gonna want to…” He huffed in frustration. “Why risk temptation, you know?” He questioned. “Even if I manage to tell him absolutely nothing, I’ll still… I’ll fall in love with him. It’s practically written in the stars. I’m not inviting that kind of heartbreak, Gen, I’m not a masochist. If I meet him, I’ll…”

  “You’ll be doomed,” Genevieve supplied.

  Jared sighed. “Right from the start.”

  They went to bed subdued and tired. So tired that Jared ran late to his very first class of the day.

  Miss Gamble, the Philosophy professor, gave him a mildly amused look. “Don’t make it a habit,” she warned as she waved him in.

  With a muttered apology, he slid into the nearest empty seat he could find, keeping his head down to avoid the sniggering looks from the other students. As he pulled his notebook out, he felt himself being watched. He lifted his head to look at his seat partner and-

  -and promptly lost his breath.

  His to-be familiar, sitting right next to him, blushed at being caught staring, green eyes fluttering shyly away before flitting back to Jared. A hand was lifted to run self-consciously through dark blonde hair and full pink lips curved into a small smile. “You’re not really that late,” he assured in a whisper.

  Jared swallowed, a sharp twang of possessiveness thrumming through his chest. “Thank god,” he heard himself say, his own voice sounding strangled to him. “Would hate to get a bad rep on the first day.”

  The guy’s smile widened, growing a tad more confident. “That Texas I hear in your voice?”

  Jared nodded slowly. “San Antonio.”

  “Dallas.” He stuck a hand out. “I’m Jensen.”

  Jared took his hand and he knew he wasn’t imagining the electricity zapping between their skin. “Jared,” he introduced, recovering his wits enough to give a proper smile. 

  Jensen’s eyes widened, mouth dropping open a little. And all Jared could think was, I am so screwed.

  Jensen watched out of the corner of his eye, pretending to be absorbed in his book as his best friend of four years stood in front of the mirror. 

  "And you're absolutely sure," he started in a teasing drawl. "That a suit is the appropriate attire for a coming-of-age ceremony with an arcane society of magicians?"

  Jared grinned at his reflection. "Hey, hey, watch it! We're not arcane, we're very modern and unconventional. Hence, the suit." He gestured to himself with a flourishing hand. "Also, it's witches, not magicians. You make us sound like fake stage performers. I'm way classier than that."

  "Sure," Jensen snickered, walking towards Jared and batting his fumbling hands away from his own neck. "A classy witch who can't even tie a Windsor."

  Jared waited patiently for him to finish tying it for him. "That's what I've got you for, Ackles. You know I’d be lost without you." He grabbed Jensen's face, squishing his cheeks, and pressed a smacking kiss to his forehead. "Okay, I should go now. Don’t wait up for me. I’ll see you tomorrow."

  Jensen barely managed to mutter a goodbye. He was too lost in the lingering warmth of Jared's lips. 

  Now, ordinarily, if one were to be asked to pinpoint the exact moment they fell in love, they probably wouldn’t be able to answer.

   Jensen could. It had been a weekend in November, out on an empty field somewhere in Kansas. Jared had dragged him across too many states to watch some meteor shower, dork that he was.

  Jensen had always been a little in awe of his best friend, but that night, huddled together in the cold, with only one blanket between them and Jared’s magic to keep them warm, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off him for more than a second, not even to look at the shooting stars.

  “Make a wish, Jen,” Jared had whispered, with a giddy smile of excitement.

  Jensen had shivered- whether from the cold or the brush of Jared’s lips against his ear, he had no idea. “Nah,” he’d said, shrugging. “Got everything I want.”

  Jared had laughed. “Yeah? Me too.”

  Unfortunately, Jensen was also a little bundle of shyness and Jared was straight. He hadn’t said a word to Jared about his newfound desire to kiss the living daylights out of him and three years later, he was still quietly pining. Some people, like Chris and Steve, called it pathetic. Jensen called it dedication.

  Oh, who was he kidding? It was pathetic and he damn well knew it.

  Jensen sighed, shaking himself out of his thoughts. 

  Witches came of age at 22. Jared’s birthday had been a week ago. He was going to go through some pretentious long-ass ceremony, swear a few oaths, drink blood from a chalice… Okay, not the last one, obviously. But come on, they were witches! Jensen wouldn’t really put it past them, considering Jared had once said that cat’s hair was an actual ingredient for some elixirs.

  In any case, Jared wouldn’t be back till midnight at the latest. Jensen looked around at the flat they shared. There was nothing to be done here. His assignments were all done. College didn’t reopen for another two weeks. It was Saturday night. Why the hell not?

  He called Chris. “You guys playing tonight?”

  “Yeah, we are. You comin’?”

  “Yeah. I’ll meet you there.”

  "First round’s on Jenny!" Chris hollered. 

 Jensen rolled his eyes. “It’s Jen-sen,” he corrected. “And why the fuck am I buying?”

  “Because, it’s been ages since you came out and sang with us, man,” Steve told him seriously. “And it’s still a massive improvement from when we’d have to drag you kicking and screaming onstage.”

  “Ah, yes,” Chris said solemnly. “Ye olden days of the shy kitten.”

  “It was just four years ago, you ass,” Jensen grumbled. “And I’m not a fucking cat.” But they were right. Four years ago, he’d never have found the courage to get up on a stage and perform in front of people he didn’t know from Adam. But then, he’d met Jared and… Well, they’d both been good for each other, really. Jared had helped him find a confidence he didn’t know he possessed, taught him to be comfortable in his own skin. And Jensen had happily taken on the job of keeping Jared’s head out of the clouds for too long and steering him away from people who would just as soon take advantage of his big heart.

  A hard nudge jostled him out of his thoughts. “Dude, you gotta stop zoning out,” Chris was saying. “Why’d you even leave Jared at home if you’re just gonna sit and daydream about him?”

  Jensen refused to blush. “I don’t daydream,” he refuted. “And, Jared is meeting up with a few of his old friends. He said he’d be back later tonight.” It wasn’t a total lie.

  “Okay, well, Danneel just texted, she’s bringing a few of her friends along. So, get your guitars ready, boys, we got chicks to impress.”

  It was a fun night- loud, rambunctious and with enough alcohol to help ignore the fact that Jared wasn’t here with him, cheering him on with the rest of the crowd. Jensen sang his heart out, as he always did. And if he picked a few cheesy love songs and mixed up the pronouns- well, Steve’s knowing wink made up for Chris’ glare.

  It was close to midnight when Jensen went home. Drinking somehow always made him drowsy and, despite wanting to wait up for Jared and hear how everything went, he was out like a light the second he hit the pillow.

  He woke once, briefly, to blankets being tucked around him.

  He must have made some sort of sound, because there was a whisper of, “Shh. S’just me. Go back to sleep, Jen.” A large hand stroked through his hair comfortingly.

   Jensen drifted off again.

  Jensen was not a morning person. That would be Jared. He always woke up around sunrise, went for a run, did yoga, then woke Jensen up with coffee. 

  This Sunday morning, however, dawned without the sounds of Jared puttering about in the kitchen. Jensen frowned at the lack of noise as soon as he opened his eyes to the sunlight streaming in through the gap in the curtains. Grumbling, he forced himself out of bed, too out of it to wonder at the silence But it wasn’t until he was halfway human and missing his morning fix that he wondered if something was wrong.

  A quick look confirmed that the door to Jared's bedroom was closed. Jensen knocked softly. "Jay? You alright?"

  There was no answer. But before Jensen could get worried, the front door swung open to reveal Jared, breathing hard, face red from exertion and hair dark with sweat. “Hey,” he greeted, panting. “Sorry, I, uh, I lost track of time.”

  Jensen dragged his eyes away from his heaving chest. “Don’t worry about it,” he reassured groggily.

  Jared shook his head. “No, you didn’t get your coffee yet,” he mumbled, stepping towards the kitchen, heading for the coffee machine. 

  Jensen watched him move around, still not quite awake enough to work out why something felt off. It wasn’t until Jared handed him his favorite mug and he downed it in five seconds that he noticed Jared was staring at him.

  Slowly, he lowered the cup. “What?”

  Jared’s eyes darted away, then back again. “Nothing.”

  “You’re acting weird.” Jensen frowned, peering closely. “What’s wrong?”

  Jared shrugged, twisting a thumb into the hem of his sleeve.

  Jensen felt a spike of concern. Setting the mug down, he stepped into Jared’s space. “Jared? What’s wrong?” He repeated. A thought occurred to him. “Did something go wrong yesterday? At the ceremony?” He vaguely remembered Jared checking in on him last night. “I got drunk with Chris and Steve last night, so I couldn’t wait up. Seriously, Jay-”

  “It’s fine, Jen.” Jared smiled, visibly forced. “Nothing happened. Nothing much,” he amended. “They…” He took a deep breath. Meeting Jensen’s eyes, he smiled again, still forced. “Look, just, let me take a shower. You make breakfast.”

  He escaped Jensen’s hold and disappeared before Jensen could probe further. Jensen blinked, confused and more than a little worried. It wasn’t like Jared to act this cagey. He was always so open, so bubbly and happy to share. And he’d never tried to hide anything from Jensen. Why did it seem like he was starting to?

  Lost in his thoughts, Jensen had cooked a few too many pancakes by the time Jared emerged from his shower. He wrapped Jensen up in a hug from behind. “Burn the edges of mine, please,” he requested.

  Jensen leaned back easily. “Burn them yourself, you heathen,” he retorted. He knew what this was- Jared had figured out early into their friendship that overwhelming Jensen with physical affection was an easy method to get his way.

  As was proven by the way Jared pressed a kiss to his temple, softer than the one from the day before. “Please?” He pleaded, fucking nuzzling into Jensen’s neck.

  Jensen drew in a shaky breath, ignoring just how tempting it was to turn the last couple inches and kiss his best friend. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your mood earlier,” he reminded, his voice thankfully strong. “You’re going to tell me what’s wrong.”

  Jared huffed. “Fine,” he grumbled, letting go and stepping back. 

  Jensen joined him at the table, sliding his plate towards him. “Don’t pout, you look like a kid. Now, what happened last night?”

  Jared sighed. As he poked at his pancakes with a fork, the edges turned a burnt golden-brown. 

  Jensen rolled his eyes at the unnecessary show of magic. “Jared.”

  “My magic needs to be bound,” he muttered.

  Jensen blinked. “What?”

  Jared took a vicious stab at his breakfast. “Apparently, I’m stronger than the norm for witches. And now that I’m of age, it needs to be bound or it could be dangerous.”

  Jensen blinked again. Jared and dangerous? Talk about oxymorons. “Uh, dangerous for…?”

  “Myself, mostly. And others, as a consequence.” Jared shrugged, chewing nonchalantly. All traces of his earlier evasiveness were gone. Except the white knuckles from clenching the fork. “If I use too much magic, I could burn myself out.”

  “And that’s bad, I’m guessing.”

  “I’d die, Jensen,” Jared answered flatly.

  Jensen stared, trying to find a hint of teasing in Jared’s face. He couldn’t. He swallowed with some difficulty. “Okay,” he answered faintly. “We want to avoid that, obviously.”

  “Obviously,” Jared agreed. “So, there’s a set of three trials to bind a witch’s magic within themselves. But it’s dangerous. If something goes wrong- like, even an inch sideways- it would be bad.”

  “How bad?” Jensen couldn’t help ask.

  Jared shrugged. “Bad.”

  Jensen shook his head. “Jesus, Jay,” he groaned. There was a sinking feeling in his gut, like that one second at the highest point of a rollercoaster. “You can’t… I can’t believe this.”

  “Oh, you better believe it, baby,” Jared snarked.

  “And there’s absolutely no other way to do this?” Jensen asked. “Something that doesn’t involve an ominously unclear threat?”

  Jared chewed slowly, again not meeting Jensen’s eyes. “There is,” he spoke slowly. “Technically. But…” He shrugged. “It won’t work for me.”

  Jensen raised an eyebrow. “Why the hell not? What is it?”

  “It just won’t,” Jared stressed. He looked tired, suddenly. “I can’t do it. I researched it a few years ago and... It has to be these trials.”

  “Jared…”

  “Jen, relax,” Jared forced a laugh. But it sounded too sharp and caustic and there was something desperate in his voice. “Let it go, man. This is the best way for me to do this.”

  Jensen watched him and told himself the stab of fear he felt meant absolutely nothing.

  “Hey, Jared,” Genevieve greeted. 

  Jared grinned down at her, leaning over the desk to give her a swift peck on the cheek.

  Jensen studiously looked around the library. He knew Jared and Genevieve had grown up together, even dated a while in high school. He also knew that they were nothing more than friends. That didn’t stop Jensen from feeling ever so slightly defensive around the pretty brunette. It didn’t help that Genevieve always looked at Jensen like she was sizing him up.

  “Listen, I need a few minutes downstairs,” Jared muttered. “Need to pick up a few ingredients.”

  “For what?” Genevieve asked, handing him a large brass key. “The trials? Jay, come on, you said you would-”

  “I thought about it,” Jared interrupted her. “And decided it’s not a good idea. I’m doing this, Gen.”

  Jensen watched the exchange with a frown. Jared didn’t meet Genevieve’s eyes. She stared beseechingly at him for a few seconds, then turned to Jensen. She opened her mouth, as if wanting to say something. But then she shook her head. “Just… Be careful, Jared. Please. Okay?”

  “You know it,” Jared replied. He grabbed Jensen’s hand and began to pull him towards the door labelled FOR STAFF MEMBERS ONLY.

  Jensen started to say the brass key wouldn’t fit into that modern keyhole, but before he could open his mouth, Jared was already turning the handle of the door. 

  “Come on,” he whispered. “You’re gonna love this.”

  Jensen followed him into the darkness. A light came on and he gasped in wonder.

  Instead of a stuffy cabinet filled with office supplies, they were standing in front of corridors- too many corridors, stretching to either side of them. As far as Jensen could see, the shelves were filled with all sorts of items- books, bowls, mortars and pestles, rolls of parchment, quills, bottles of ink…

  “What the hell?” Jensen mumbled, flabbergasted.

  Jared laughed. He was holding a jar in his hand; it had a small fire inside, burning merrily. The fire was white. It made his eyes glow. “All the knowledge of the witches, every spell, every curse- it’s all here. Nobody knows when this room was created. It’s just there. And it’s endless.” He looked around at the shelves. “Almost every library in the world has a door that leads here. As long as you have a key.”

  “And anyone can come here?” Jensen questioned, voice soft with awe.

  “Any witch,” Jared clarified.

  Jensen whipped around to look at Jared in alarm. “Am I breaking a rule?”

  Jared rolled his eyes. “Calm down,” he insisted. “There are exceptions, special cases.”

  “Special how?”

  Jared paused, for just a beat. Then he looked away. “Come on. We’ll need some stuff for the trials.”

  “Yeah, about that-” Jensen quickened his steps to catch up to Jared, as he began to walk. “-was Genevieve talking about the alternative thing? The one you said wouldn't work for you?”

  “Yep.”

  “She sounded worried, man.” Jensen tugged on Jared’s shoulder, forcing them to face each other. “You told her you thought about it. What, exactly? What is it that won’t work for you, even when another witch obviously thinks it’s the better option?”

  Jared heaved a sigh. Again, there was a strange tiredness in his eyes. Only now, standing so close to him in complete darkness, save the little white flame between them, Jensen could see it wasn’t tiredness. It was grief.

  “Jared?”

  “The alternative is a familiar,” Jared said quietly. “I’d need to bind my magic to another living being, instead of within myself. There is only ever one perfect familiar for a witch. Most witches get animals- cats are the most common, sometimes birds or dogs. But sometimes…” He swallowed nervously. “Sometimes it’s a human. And those bonds are always the strongest, because it always evolves into every sense of intimacy possible.” He closed his eyes. “I did the spell to identify my familiar a few years ago, just out of curiosity…”

  Jensen felt his heart drop down to his stomach. “Who was it?” He asked, because he knew, instinctively, that it had been a human. Not a cat, or a sparrow, or a dog. 

  Jared looked at him again and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said quietly. “It’s not someone I can have. Not like that.”

  “What do you mean?” Jensen barely heard himself ask.

  Jared looked uncomfortable, fidgeting with the edges of his jar. “The bond between a witch and a familiar is complicated. The familiar carries some of the witch’s magic. Because of this, they share a bit of an empathetic connection. When the familiar is human, that connection is amplified. If one gets hurt, the other feels it too. If they separate for too long, they get physically sick. Human familiars are rare. I can’t…” He shook his head. “I can’t ask that of anyone, Jensen. They’d be pretty much signing away their life.”

  Jensen sighed. “What are these trials?” He asked, glad to find his voice steady.

  Jared shot him a grateful look. “The first one- I have to give up a cherished memory of someone I hold dear.” The words had an air of recital, like he was repeating instructions. “The second is that I have to draw blood from that same person. And the third is painting a binding sigil onto my chest with the same blood, then chanting a spell."

  Jensen let out a deep breath and wondered how he was supposed to sit by and watch Jared hurt himself like this.

  “So, have you thought about which memory you’re gonna give up?” Jensen asked. “And whose?”

  Jared wagged a finger at him. “That’s a secret, Ackles. Can’t go around spilling everything to you now, can I?”

  Jensen frowned. “Give me a clue.”

  Jared carefully measured out the grey powder into a bowl. “Crushed bones of a shark,” he mumbled. Then he added several drops of blue liquid. “Blood of a squid.”

  Jensen felt himself pale. “What?” He squealed. “Those are ingredients?”

  Jared looked up at him, then laughed. “No, Jensen. It’s ground jasmine and processed indigo. We’re not savages.”

  Jensen made a face. “Ass.”

  Jared just hummed. Peering at the bowl, he dropped a lit match into it and whispered under his breath. Immediately, the contents of the bowl erupted into fire, which was violently blue. The flames reached high, making them both scramble back, before settling down to a more reasonable height.

  Jensen cast a nervous glance at the fire alarm on their ceiling.

  “Relax,” Jared assured, reading his mind. “Magic fire, remember? No smoke.”

  Jensen maintained a healthy distance though. “So, the memory?” He prompted. “Give me a hint. You already said it’s precious and connected to your magic and someone very close to you.”

  Jared chewed on his lips for a moment, eyeing him. “It happened in this apartment. And we both know the person.”

  “That’s too vague,” Jensen protested. There were countless instances of Jared having used his magic in their home and more than a few of those had been special, seared forever into their minds. On the other hand, there weren’t a lot of people from their classes who knew about Jared being a witch. 

  Jared didn’t reply. “Okay, time for the actual trial. I’m gonna extract a memory and then burn it.”

  “Is it gonna hurt you?”

  Jared made a face. “I’m breaking off a piece of my consciousness. Of course it’s gonna fucking hurt, Jensen, that’s why you’re here. To make sure I don’t fall on my face.”

  Jensen put his hands up defensively. “Alright, alright. Didn’t occur to me, that’s all.”

  “And here I thought you were more than just a pretty face.”

  Jensen punched his arm.

  “Okay. Gonna need you to be quiet now.” With that, Jared leaned forward, elbows on the table. He put his hands on either side of his head, fingers splaying over his temples. As his eyes slipped close, a soft green light began to glow at the tips of his fingers, seeping into his skin. He was chanting again, voice dropped so low that Jensen couldn’t make out a single word no matter how much he strained his ears. Not that he really tried- Jared was breathtaking when he was performing complicated spells like this.

  Slowly, the green glow grew stronger. Jared winced once, before quickly straightening with an aborted gasp of pain, hands dropping away.

  Jensen was at his side in an instant, ready to grab him in case he toppled. “Jared? You okay?”

  Jared nodded hesitantly, listing into his side. “Yeah. Headache. Hold on.”

  The words were filled with pain and Jensen gingerly placed his hands right where Jared’s had been, and began rubbing slow circles, hoping to soothe away the ache. Sure enough, after a minute, Jared relaxed. “Thanks,” he muttered, eyes fluttering open to meet Jensen’s. There was some confusion in them, some question he couldn’t understand

  Jensen swallowed, frozen at the unexpected lack of distance between them. He was almost relieved when Jared moved away. He was also a little disappointed, but that was par for the course.

 Jared looked down at his hands.

  Jensen finally noticed that the green glow was now cupped in a palm, pulsing like it had a life of its own.

  “Is that… Your memory?” Jensen asked in a hushed voice.

  “Yeah,” Jared breathed. “And I have no idea what it is.”

  Jensen jerked his head up to look sharply at him. “What do you mean? You don’t remember?”

  “Nope,” Jared said, staring at the green glow in fascination. “Not a clue. It’s like there’s this blank space where it should be, but I have nothing to fill it with. Not even a hint.”

  Jensen looked at the green glow too. “So I guess I’ll never know what you chose, huh?”

  Jared seemed to hesitate. “Well, I could take it back,” he muttered. Again, he looked at Jensen, still in that questioning way.

  And for a split second, Jensen could have sworn he heard something from the memory- it sounded like his own voice.

  But before he could be sure, Jared tipped his palm into the bowl, letting the memory go. The blue flames turned momentarily emerald.

  Jared passed his hand over the bowl and the fire died down. “Well, that’s one down,” he announced. “Two more to go.”

  “You sang?!” Jared looked so offended it was actually hilarious. “I’ve been begging you to come to the bar for weeks and you kept refusing on account of studies and assignments. And the one night I’m not home, you think it’s okay to go out and sing?”

  Jensen stifled a laugh. “Come on, Jay, I was just getting bored-”

  “We’re done, Ackles. I’m through with you.”

  “Jared-”

  “You broke my heart and I’ll never recover now.”

  Jared-”

  “I hope you’re happy, you best-friend-betraying, sneakily-singing-”

  “We’ll go out tonight!” Jensen finally exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “Okay? And if- IF- Chris and Steve are playing, then I’ll join in, okay?”

  Jared cackled, a complete one-eighty in the way he squeezed Jensen tight. “Knew it! You’re such a sucker!”

  Jensen rolled his eyes. “More like an eternal prisoner, you freak of nature. Let go of me, damn it.”

  Jared held on for a few more seconds, face tucked into Jensen’s neck. Then he let go and stepped back. “We should do the second trial soon.”

  “Yeah?” Jensen raised an eyebrow. “Something about drawing blood from the same person who was in that memory?”

  “Yeah,” Jared sighed. He was fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt, only looking at him every now and then. “But it’s not just that. Magic is closely related to emotions. For this spell… I need to make them angry. Hurt them. And then draw the blood.”

  Jensen drew in a breath. "That's messed up, dude."

  "I know.” Jared fiddled nervously. “But, um… It doesn’t have to be something drastic, you know. It can be simple, like, I don’t know- breaking a rule, telling a white lie… Hiding a secret. As long as they get a little upset- it’s not really meant to be painful.”

  "Look, the blood issue aside, do you even know who the person is?" Jensen asked. "Do you remember who the memory was about?"

  Jared huffed. "Yeah. It's pretty obvious."

  Jensen did a double take at the bitterness coating his words. "Hey." He reached out, then thought better of it. 

  Jared shook himself, with a bright smile now. "Anyway, come on! You said we're going out, so let's go out. And because I’m such a nice guy, you won’t even have to sing."

  Jensen groaned as morosely as he could.

  Sometime during their sophomore year, Jensen had confessed he was gay. Jared had stared at him for a few heartbeats, then hugged him tightly. “Thanks for trusting me,” he’d said.

  After that, they’d made a promise to never keep secrets from each other. It was stupid, of course, and they’d been half-drunk anyway. But they’d abided by it. Except for Jensen’s one special secret, he never hid anything from Jared. 

  He’d really thought Jared returned the sentiment.

  About an hour after they arrived at the bar, Jensen, lost in Chris and Steve’s nostalgic country sounds, lost track of his best friend. He looked around with a frown, coming to his senses. 

  “Hey, hey, Genevieve.” He tugged on Genevieve’s sleeve, who’d used her night off to join them, distracting her from whatever guy she was flirting with. “Where’s Jay?”

  She giggled. “Lost your boy?” She teased, but there was an undercurrent of upset in it. “Thought you two are attached at the hip?”

  Jensen rolled his eyes. “Come on, Gen, have you seen him anywhere?”

  She sighed. “Yeah,” she said. “He went through the backdoor with Stephen. Probably catching a smoke.”

  The name had all the alcohol in Jensen’s body evaporating. Stephen Amell was in their year. He was in one of Jensen’s classes and three of Jared’s. And anyone with eyes could see the torch he carried for Jared. Especially Jensen, who’d been hiding the signs in himself long enough to recognize them in someone else.

  And no matter how much Jensen grumbled about disliking the guy, Jared just smiled fondly. And as much as Jensen wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to badmouth Amell- who was genuinely a nice guy- knowing that Jared would believe him and cut the guy loose immediately.

  So, yeah, hearing that Jared was somewhere alone with Amell made Jensen want to storm in their general direction and drag Jared away. As it was, he forced himself to at least try acting natural. He turned to leave.

  Genevieve caught his arm. “Jensen,” she said his name somberly. “Just… Remember that you’re his best friend, okay? He would never want to hurt you.” Her dark eyes bored into him.

  Jensen didn’t know what she was talking about, but he had an errant best friend to find. He slowly nodded at her, making a note to think about it later, and then he made his way through the crowd, narrowly avoiding Chris and Steve. He reached the back door. With his hand on the knob, he hesitated. There was a weight in his chest, like he wasn’t supposed to go through this door right now.

  Jensen squared himself. And opened the door. He stepped out into the back alley, the sudden darkness making him squint. Walking two steps forward, the sound of low moans and muffled grunts reached him. He froze. Dimly, he could make out two people, pressed into the brick wall, making out enthusiastically, mindlessly. The weight in Jensen’s chest dropped down to his stomach. One of those voices sounded like… 

  A car drove by the opening of the alley, its headlights flooding the narrow space. Jensen caught a sharp, unmistakable glimpse: Jared, head thrown back against the wall, lips parted on a moan, hands clutching Amell, who was mouthing away at his neck. Jensen must have made some sort of sound, or maybe the fracturing of his heart echoed across the air- Jared’s eyes snapped open, landing on him like a beacon.

  The whole thing lasted for little more than a second.

  The headlights blinked away and Jensen turned on his heel, pushing his way through the door back into the club. He pushed through the throngs, trying to run, to escape. He caught a glimpse of Genevieve’s stricken face, but couldn’t stop even for her. Outside, he hailed a cab, rattling out the address of their apartment in one breath. 

  He felt numb, cold. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that he realized he’d been waiting for Jared to come after him. And Jared didn’t.

  The room was dark, too small and too big at the same time. Jensen wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up on the floor but he couldn’t bring himself to get up. He sat with his back against the closed door, eyes closed and not even trying to stop the tears. There was a gaping hole in his chest, something that stung with hurt and heartbreak and betrayal. He wasn’t entirely sure which he was more upset about: the fact that Jared was into guys and hadn’t told him, or that he was into guys but not Jensen?

  Frankly, he didn’t have the energy or the inclination to think about it.

  The sound of the front door opening made him start. Jared’s voice called out, “Jensen? You home?”

  He sounded hesitant, scared. Jensen couldn’t stop the sudden sob from escaping.

  Footsteps could be heard, stopping right outside Jensen’s door. “Jen- Jensen. Please. It’s not… Just let me explain. Please?”

  Jensen didn’t- couldn’t- reply.

  “I’m so sorry,” Jared was saying. It was almost a whisper, just loud enough to be heard across the door. “I should have told you, I know. I was just- I couldn’t and I wasn’t sure and- I know, it’s not an excuse. I should have told you.” A pause. “Jensen, please.”

  Jensen pressed his fist to his mouth, vainly trying to muffle his crying.

  “I didn’t want you to find out like this,” Jared pleaded. “But it was… The second Trial. The memory I chose for the first one was of you, so now, the blood has to be yours too. I told you, that’s why I told you beforehand, that it was going to have to come from a sense of betrayal. Jensen… I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t think- I didn’t know.” There was a choked sob. “I didn’t know, Jensen, I didn’t know how you… That you…” 

  Jensen tried to stop shaking, heart stuttering to a stop as he realized what Jared was trying to say. I didn’t know how you felt about me. I didn’t know that you were in love with me. And it didn’t help that he could hear the pain in his voice.

  “I… I told Gen to tell you where to find me,” Jared confessed, his own voice choked and teary. “I needed you to see it. And I was going to explain it right then, but… You ran. You ran out and I… I thought you were angry and I hated myself for doing that to you. And then Genevieve told me, she made me see why you’d reacted like that- that you were- how you felt… So I thought, if I waited a little before coming to you… Fuck, I’m an idiot, I should have followed you, I’m so sorry, Jensen, I’m so fucking sorry.”

  Silence fell for a long time.

  Jensen swallowed past the block in his throat. He ran a hand through his hair, wiping his face ineffectually. He had two options here, he thought. He could tell Jared to fuck off and leave him alone. Or he could forgive Jared right now and accept the fact that his best friend would never see him as anything more.

  For a brief few moments, the first option was sorely tempting.

  But it had been five minutes since Jared had stopped talking and he still hadn’t left his vigil outside the door, waiting. He knew how Jensen felt and was still here. And Jensen loved him, loved him too much, maybe more than he’d realized himself, to mess up the Trails for him. 

  It wasn’t Jared’s fault that he didn’t love Jensen, he reminded himself. That was on him. He couldn’t punish Jared for his own feelings. 

  With a trembling hand and his heart giving only a feeble protest, Jensen reached up to turn the handle. Jared nearly toppled inside the room, but he caught himself quickly, palms braced against the floor as he stared at Jensen with red-rimmed eyes. “Jensen?”

  “Amell? Really?” It was a poor attempt, his voice barely above a croak.

  Jared didn’t even try to smile. With a cut off whimper, he tackled Jensen into a hug. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, god, I didn't mean to hurt you, Jensen, I would never, you gotta know, you know-"

  "Stop."

  Jared clamped his lips shut and scrambled off Jensen, suddenly stiff like he didn’t know what to do, looking up at him pleadingly.

  Jensen stared at him, pulling him back, unable to stop himself from smoothing his hair back. Jared leaned into the touch and Jensen bit the inside of his lip to keep from crying. “You should have told me,” he said, voice trembling. “God damn it, Jared, you should have told me.”

  Jared bowed his head, hiding in Jensen’s chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just… I didn’t know.”

  Jensen took a deep breath, breathing him in. “Take the blood.”

  Jared pulled away again, so quick that Jensen nearly fell forward. “Are you crazy?” He said, voice pitching higher. “No! Fuck no, not after what I just did to you. How could you let me-?”

  “Jared, you can’t mess up the Trials,” Jensen insisted. “I… I’m okay, I’ll be okay. Just take the blood first.”

  Jared shook his head. “I made you cry,” he whispered. “I didn’t… I never meant to make you cry.” He reached out slowly, fingers swiping away Jensen’s tears. “Why aren’t you getting mad at me?” He sounded genuinely confused. “Why would you let me go ahead with this?”

  “You know why,” Jensen said softly, hating the way Jared flinched. “You know I lo-”

  “Don’t.” Jared’s voice was a sharp plea. “Don’t, please, don’t say it. I can’t…”

  Jensen nodded, swallowing his words back. They burned. Instead, he held his arm out. “Take the blood, Jared.”

  For a second, it seemed Jared would refuse. But then he was wiping his own tears away, a silver blade twirling in his fingers out of nowhere. He shifted until he was cross-legged opposite Jensen, who copied the position, suddenly feeling nervous. 

  Jared took his hand in his own, nearly engulfing it. The blade was pressed to his skin. Jared looked up at him. "Eyes on me, Jen," he said quietly, voice still hoarse. 

  Jensen obeyed, locking eyes with the only person who could so completely break his heart. Jared's gaze was soft, remorseful and something else that Jensen couldn't name, something that made his chest feel tight and his heart beat faster, made his head start to spin. 

  “Don’t look at me like that,” he begged without thinking.

   Fresh tears bloomed in Jared’s eyes, then he looked away. “Done.”

  Jensen shook himself and looked down. There was a neat slice on his arm, small and glistening red. In Jared's hand, the blade had been replaced by a small vial filled with blood, and he was murmuring under his breath. As Jensen watched, the vial glowed green. 

  Something shifted within Jensen. The grief that had been making it so hard to breathe was suddenly dulled. 

  The glow faded, the vial disappeared, and Jared's thumb caressed the cut, healing it and clearing the blood away in one smooth motion. There wasn't even a scar. 

  Jensen looked back up. "Did you just do something to me?"

  Jared didn't meet his eyes. He looked weak. "Spells are tied to emotions, remember? I took your blood- it carried your… Everything you were feeling in the moment."

  What had Jensen been feeling? Anger. Hurt. Grief. Love. Oh, fuck. "What do you mean?" He demanded. "I'm never gonna feel any of that again?!" He scanned his own form frantically, trying to gauge if there was something wrong with himself.

  Jared shook his head. "They'll be dulled for a week or so," he said. "But nothing more. Don't worry." He tried for a smile. “You’ll be back to threatening to kick my ass out in no time.”

  Jensen shook his head, calmer now. “I’ll settle for you doing all our laundry for the next two weeks.”

  “Anything you want,” Jared answered, too soft to be a joke.

  Jensen took a deep breath, oxygen sticking in his chest. “I wanna go to bed, Jay. Jared.”

  “Jense-”

  “Please.”

  Jared looked worse, miserable and helpless, as he left the room. Jensen steeled himself against it. It was easier than it should be and he realized this was what Jared meant by dulling his emotions. He wasn’t sure whether to be glad for it or not. On one hand, the ache in his chest was lighter. On the other, he couldn’t make himself cry that night.

  It was a few weeks before Jared announced it was high time they did the last trial. To say Jensen felt taken by surprise was an understatement. Even more so when he realized Jared was holding a small jar of some dark liquid.

  “Is that my blood?” Jensen asked cautiously.

  Jared bit his lip. “Well, it’s a mixture of parchment ash, yarrow juice, vermillion extract… And, your blood, yeah.”

  Jensen set his coffee down carefully, not meeting his eyes. There was still a hint of bitterness in his mouth when he thought about the circumstances under which his blood had been extracted. And while Jared had apologized again and again, he’d also stopped being casually affectionate with Jensen. He’d been careful with his touches, hugs lasting less long and eyes darting away rather than lingering with fondness. 

  Jensen hated it, hated the distance that had cropped up. He also knew that this was Jared’s way of giving him space to heal- as much space as he could, short of leaving the apartment, which Jensen had shot down the second it had been suggested. And Jensen was grateful for the consideration, he really was. He just also really missed Jared. It had been okay at first, while his emotions had been dulled by the second Trial. Then everything came back, in full HD, sharp and unmistakable and too big to be ignored. Jensen was, weirdly enough, relieved at that. He didn’t think he knew how to live without loving Jared.

  “Jensen?” The voice was small. “I… I need your help with this, man. Please. I…” He audibly swallowed. “Just this one thing. After that…”

  Jensen forced a smile. “After that, you can continue doing our laundry.”

  Jared returned the smile, just as flat. “Deal.”

  “So.” Jensen finished off the last of his coffee and got to his feet. “What do we need to do?”

  Jared gave a nervous laugh. “You’re not gonna like it,” he warned.

  Jensen scoffed. “Were you under the impression I enjoyed the last two?” He sniped.

  Jared flinched slightly. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I meant, just that, this one is worse.”

  “Worse, how?”

  “I’m going to paint a few sigils on to myself. And recite a chant.”

  “That doesn’t sound too bad.” Jensen frowned. “You need some special paint or…?”

  Jared held up the vial. “Just your blood.”

  And there was a tiny, slightly messed up, secret part of Jensen that felt a dark sort of thrill at the idea of his blood being painted on Jared’s skin. “Still not seeing the bad here.”

  Jared sighed. “As I say the spell, it’s gonna… Cut me. A little. Over the sigils.”

  “What?”

  “You just have to make sure I don’t stop.” Jared looked utterly serious. “There’s a very specific time limit and I have to complete the entire spell within that frame.”

  Jensen shook his head. “You’ll be bleeding. And I have to make sure you finish a spell?” He squinted. “What happens if you don’t?”

  Jared pursed his lips. “Let’s not find out,” he suggested. He stepped towards Jensen, hesitating for a second before clasping a hand around the back of his neck.

  The look of relief on his face when Jensen leaned into the touch, feeling starved for it, made him feel unreasonably guilty. Had he unconsciously been distancing himself from Jared, instead of the other way around like he’d thought? “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s gonna be hurting me,” Jared said quietly. “Maybe a lot, maybe barely a sting, I don’t know. But the spell is designed to be difficult. You just… You have to do whatever it takes to make sure I complete it. Okay?”

  Jensen took a deep breath, tilting forward slightly to gently rest their foreheads together. “I’ll do it,” he promised. “When do you want to do this?”

  Jared gave a small smile. “How do you feel about now?”

  “Sure. Let’s get it over with.”

  They cleared the living room, pushing the couch into the corner and drawing the curtains close. Jensen dragged the small round table from the couch to the center of the large sigil that Jared had drawn in chalk, turned the lights off and lit a candle.

  "Jared?"

  "In here."

  Jensen went to Jared’s bedroom and found him standing shirtless in front of the mirror. He had the jar of blood in one hand and a feather quill in the other. He was putting the finishing touches to a gordian knot over his chest. There was a small set of concentric rings over his stomach, something that resembled an eye over his right shoulder, parallel lines from his elbows to his wrists, and other letter-like symbols running down his sides. It was all in a deep red, almost black, glistening in the dim light. 

  "We're taught to draw sigils blindfolded, in the dark," Jared said, without prompting. "This is all a binding spell. The final Trial- it'll lock all my magic in myself, so no chances of me ever losing control."

  Jensen didn't know what to say. Stepping further in, he realized the air in the room seemed to be vibrating, making his teeth tingle and his ears pop. The closer he got to Jared, the stronger it felt. 

  Jared gave him an apologetic half-smile in the reflection. "Lots of power concentrated in here," he explained, gesturing at the sigils on his skin. "You've never felt magic this strong or this concentrated before."

  Jensen hummed absently. Gritting his teeth against the acute discomfort, he forced himself to come up beside Jared. His skin was warm, which Jensen noticed about two seconds before realizing he was stroking up Jared's forearm, carefully avoiding the paint- blood. 

  Jared shivered under his touch, goosebumps raising the hairs on his arm. “Stop that,” he mumbled. “You… You’ll ruin the paint.”

  Jensen withdrew. “Table’s set up,” he said quietly, nodding towards the living room.

  Jared gave a firm nod. With a last stroke of the brush, he took a deep breath and lifted a candle. Placing it at the center of the small table, he pressed both palms on the flat surface, bracing against it. The candle lit up. Once again, the flame was green.

  Jensen came to stand beside him, far enough so as not to disturb him, but close enough that he could intervene if needed. Jared looked at him. For one long moment, he stared at Jensen, eyes sweeping over his form slowly, like he was trying to commit him to memory. A small smile curved his lips. “Thanks for helping me, Jensen,” he said.

  Jensen just nodded, giving a shaky smile in return and telling himself he was only imagining the sad wistfulness in those words.

  Jared turned to the candle. With his eyes slipping close, he whispered, “Anima intra, mens sine, aeternum esse idem.”

  The temperature dropped and Jensen rubbed his forearms. He could see Jared shivering and wished the spell didn’t require him to be quite so exposed to the cold that emanated from the magic.

  Jared took a deep breath. He swallowed, visibly steeling himself. “Cohercendam.” No sooner had the word left his mouth, Jared gasped, hunching in on himself.

  The flame flickered a deep red for a second. 

  Jensen grasped Jared’s shoulders with a quick burst of fear. “Jay?”

  Jared shook his head. “I’m okay, ‘m fine. ‘S okay.” He straightened.

  Jensen zeroed in on the long cut on his arm, following the path of the parallel lines that Jared had drawn earlier. Jared’s blood, mixing with the paint of Jensen’s blood.

  “Centralis,” Jared chanted. A short wince this time, a flicker of red in the flame, and, this time, Jensen saw the gash opening up on Jared’s arm, right next to the first one.

  “Cor et anima.” Another wince and a third gash. Jared was starting to emanate a faint glow, a deep green that matched the candle flame.

  Jensen’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “Jared,” he spoke in a low voice. “Take a minute.”

  Jared shook his head- small, rapid motions that looked frantic. “Can’t. No time.” He opened his eyes, blinking like he hadn’t realized he’d closed them.

  Jensen abruptly realized that the candle was growing smaller faster than a normal candle would. 

  “Dica fortitudo,” Jared chanted, voice harsher now, breaths deeper and forced. “Vitae meae.” A sharp cry of pain escaped him and he listed towards Jensen.

  “Jared, Jar- hey,” Jensen muttered frantically, forcing him upright. It took him a second to notice Jared’s shoulder was bleeding under his palm. “Jared, come on, man, you can’t stop!”

  Jared was shaking. His shoulder was bleeding profusely and Jensen couldn’t even let go of him long enough to grab something that might stem the flow.

  “Obligare mea magia,” Jared panted and promptly screamed, doubling over.

  Jensen grabbed his middle, feeling fresh blood stain his arms and clothes as new wounds opened up on his chest and stomach. “Jared!” He cried, voice trembling.

  Jared shook his head. “Wait,” he gasped.

  Jensen glanced at the candle; there was only a small stub left. “No, we’re running out of time.” He was crying, he realized. There were tears starting to spill from his eyes. “Jared, come on, come on, please, finish the spell!”

  Jared looked ghostly in the green glow, his sharp features thrown into stark relief. There was pure resignation in his eyes. ”Ita q-quod…” He stammered, trying to catch his breath.

  “Come on, come on,” Jensen pleaded, watching the ever dwindling flame out of the corner of his eye.

  “Ego… Num- numquam-”

  The flame sputtered out, a sharp wind swept through the room out of nowhere. 

  “Nocui,” Jared finished in a whisper. Nothing happened.

  It was too late.

  For a few breathless moments, neither of them dared to breathe, caught between staring at each other and staring at the candle, both of them breathing deeply, both of them shaking, waiting in stupefied horror for… 

  Jared’s whole form spasmed sharply, jerking out of Jensen’s grasp. His mouth fell open in a silent scream, his long torso arching backwards, as the bleeding sigils on his skin glowed an angry red. 

  Jensen didn’t even have the time to react, before it was all over and Jared fell to the ground, motionless.

  Jared wouldn't wake. He lay on his bed, having been dragged there by Jensen, and stayed utterly still, barely breathing. 

  "Jared," he whispered. "Jared, come on, please. Wake up, wake up, please."

  There was no response; Jared remained dead to the world. 

  Jensen could feel tears of frustration stinging his eyes. Pull it together, he told himself. He needed to help Jared. 

  Jensen cleaned and bandaged the sigils that had been cut into his skin by the spell. His own hands were shaking with worry and fear. He decided to wait. 

  Two hours later, Jared's wounds were closed, but his skin was pale. Jensen had no way of knowing how much blood he'd lost.

  At the five hour mark, Jared started burning up. His cheeks were flushed, his lips cracked and white. Jensen covered him in blankets, kept a wet cloth over his forehead, did everything he could think of. 

  Six hours after the spell had gone wrong, Jensen realized there was one person he could call. "Genevieve, please, you have to come over, I don't what to do, I can't help him, he's just lying there, he's-"

  Genevieve, bless her, was knocking at their apartment sooner than he'd expected. She looked harried. "Where is he?" She demanded, pushing past him with a small satchel slung around her neck. 

  Jensen let her go ahead. She nearly froze once she was inside the bedroom. "Oh my god," she muttered, then switched to swearing in Latin as she took in Jared's form. "How long has he been like this?"

  "Six hours."

  She swore again. "I told him, I told him not to do it, those Trials are restricted for a reason, they're just way too dangerous, and this idiot-"

  "Restricted?" Jensen echoed. 

  Genevieve rummaged in her bag, bringing out a small jar of thick pink paste. "Yeah, of course. The last time they were attempted was at the turn of the century and the guy had died. The last successful attempt had been three hundred years ago and she'd almost died." She started applying the paste over Jared's skin, layering it more thickly over the closed wounds. "Didn't he tell you?"

  Jensen swallowed past the lump in his throat. "No. No, he didn't, not all those details, at least." 

  Genevieve's movements slowed. She looked up at him, gaze sharp under smoky lashes. "Jensen… The witch from three hundred years ago- Rowena- she's said to be the most powerful one in history. The Padalecki line are her direct descendants and Jared has more potential in him than anyone has seen since her."

  Jensen shook his head. He knew that Jared was powerful, that his family were very influential and respected among witches… But what did that have to do with anything? "He… He told me that that's why his magic needs to be bound."

  Genevieve seemed to sense his confusion. "Exactly. And the usual, safer method of binding magic is bonding with a familiar. All strong witches have one."

  Jensen nodded now. "Yeah. And he said his familiar was a human, but because the witch-familiar bond is so intense and, uh… Codependent, he doesn't want to bring that person into it."

  Genevieve looked like she'd sucked a lemon, though she remained focused on Jared. "Right," she said. “And the Trials are designed to break that connection. The first one takes a dear memory. The second causes emotional strife. And the third one cuts it off at its core, creating another knot that remains within the witch.”

  Jensen nodded slowly, wondering where this was going.

 "Well, the thing is, I'm healing him now, but it's temporary. His magic is breaking his body down at a molecular level. Unless, by some miracle, he manages to finish that last Trial, he doesn't have a choice but to bond with his familiar."

  “This is so bad,” Jensen groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “Jesus- if it’s as bad as you say, then he won’t be able to finish that Trial if his life depends on it. Which, apparently, it does!”

  “I know.”

  “The thing with the familiar is his only choice and the bastard wouldn’t even tell me who-” A thought occurred to him, bringing him to a mental standstill. “Genevieve,” he said slowly. “You know who his familiar is, don’t you?”

  The look she gave him was of pity. "Jensen," she said quietly. "It's not that simple."

  "We have to try!" Jensen insisted. He got to his feet, starting to pace, because he couldn't keep looking at Jared when he was like this, pale and lifeless. "We can, I don't know, at least, talk to the familiar, get him to see the problem!"

  "And guilt him into binding his whole life and soul to someone?" Genevieve tested, raising an eyebrow. "Nobody in their right mind would agree to that."

  "I would!" Jensen yelled. 

  A heavy silence fell. 

  It took him a few seconds for his own words to register. He felt the blood rush from his face, leaving him pale. He looked at Jared, still unconscious but with more colour in his cheeks now, his breaths coming deeper. Genevieve's healing was working. 

  And Jensen couldn't- didn't want to take back what he said. "I would," he repeated quietly. "I'd do it in a heartbeat."

  Genevieve heaved a deep sigh. "Yeah, I believe you." She dug out a notepad and a pen from her satchel. Scribbling fast, she tore two pages out and offered them to him. "The spell had pointed to you. You're his familiar. He knew it since the day he met you. And when he fell in love with you, it gave him more reason to never tell you. But if you bind yourself to him now, it'll heal him completely and the effects of the Trials will be negated. You just need to get his consent."

  Jensen had frozen up in the wake of the info-dump. "What?" He tried to ask. But no sound left his lips and all he could do was stare at Genevieve as she shook her head at him.

  "You never wondered why it feels like you can't breathe without him?" She asked. "Or why you ever fell for him so hard and fast? It's because of that bond, Jensen. The potential of it has always been there, whether you activated it or not." Genevieve shot a fondly annoyed look at Jared. "And then the thing with Amell… He wasn't expecting it to hit you that hard, even though I warned him. And after that, he figured you'd be okay later on, because the last Trial would have destroyed that connection between you two." She looked back at Jensen. "Don't get too mad at him. He really thought he was doing the best thing for you. Hell, he doesn’t even like guys, he just… Loves you." With that, she swept out of the room like a modern fairy godmother in painted jeans and a sleeveless shirt. 

  Jensen stayed exactly where he was for several minutes, just staring at the notes she'd left him. There were words in what he could identify as Latin, broken down so he would know how to pronounce them. And instructions. 

  For a binding spell. A binding spell between a witch and their familiar.

  It took another two hours for Jared to open his eyes, groaning weakly.

  In those two hours, Jensen had wiped off the dried healing paste on his body with a wet cloth and had bound his hand with a long cotton scarf, the other end of it held loosely in his own hand. On the bedside table to his right, there were Genevieve’s notes.

 Jared gave him a small, dopey smile, half-confused as his eyes fluttered. “J’ns’n,” he muttered, shifting in discomfort.

  “How you feeling?” Jensen asked softly, leaning forward a little.

  Jared made a valiant attempt at shrugging casually. “Good,” he said. “Great.”

  Liar, Jensen thought, remembering what Genevieve had told him. But he said flatly, “Well, in that case: you, Jared Tristan Padelecki, are a fucking idiot like I can’t believe.”

  Jared frowned and it was more adorable than it should be. “What do you-?” He was cut off when he started coughing- deep, hacking retches that forced his body to curl up into itself.

  Jensen hovered over him on instinct, rubbing soothing strokes down his back. When Jared settled, he was breathing heavily. His lips and the back of his hand were stained with blood. Jensen swallowed back his fear. 

  “Okay?”

  Jared nodded dazedly. “It’s funny,” he murmured.

  Jensen blinked. “Excuse me?”

  Jared’s eyes fixed on him slowly, like he was having trouble focusing. “I’m dying. Should freak me out, but…” He shrugged. “Spent the last few months worrying about everything going wrong. Now I’m all out of worry.”

  Jensen felt a growl escape him. “Stop that,” he snapped. “You’re not dying on me, Jay, don’t even think about it.”

  Jared didn’t seem to hear him. He was craning his neck up, looking down to his own bare chest at the remnants of the healing paste that Jensen might have missed. “Genevieve was here?”

  There was a lump in Jensen’s throat. “Jared-”

  “Bet she’s pissed off,” Jared sighed. “She kept telling me I shouldn’t risk it.”

  “And she was right,” Jensen said, unable to keep the tremble out of his voice. “You shouldn’t have. Not when there’s another option right under your nose.”

  Jared gave a lopsided smile, shaking his head. “I told you already… Not gonna work. Not for me.”

  Jensen wondered why he’d never heard the longing in Jared's voice before, why he’d missed the way Jared’s eyes would go soft as they traced over Jensen’s features, like he’d been doing for the past month since they’d started the Trials, almost as if he was memorizing Jensen’s features.

  “Jared,” he said in a quiet voice. He gave a light tug to the scarf tied around Jared’s wrist.

  When Jared finally noticed the fabric, his eyes went wide, his body going stiff and breath rasping painfully as he gasped. “No,” he protested in a whine. “No, Jen, Jensen, you can’t.”

  “Can’t what?” Jensen demanded. “Can’t save your life? Can’t bind us together forever? Can’t do something that I would have agreed to in a second if you’d asked?”

  “That’s why I didn’t,” Jared cried, voice weak and desperate. “That’s- fuck, Jensen, you’d do anything for me, because you’re in love with me, but-”

  “And you’re not?” Jensen asked softly. Because that was the bottom line, wasn’t it?

  Jared didn’t argue, just closed his eyes. “Yeah, I am,” he admitted, almost resignedly. “And… That’s why I… I can’t ask you to-”

  “Hey, you’re not asking anything,” Jensen assured, reaching out to trail his fingers over his cheek. “This is my decision.”

  “Jensen-” Whatever Jared was going to say was interrupted by another round of coughing. More drops of blood speckled his lips, a few on his chin, several on his knuckles.

  Jensen was moving before he realized, cupping the back of Jared’s neck and forcing their eyes to meet. “You’re dying,” he said, very quiet and very firm. "You're dying and I don't want to live without you. It doesn't matter whether or not I can- I don't actually care to find out. So yeah, Jared, I'm pretty damn sure I wanna do this."

  "Jensen," Jared pleaded. 

  Jensen leaned closer, their foreheads leaning together. "I want to," he repeated in a murmur. "And I'm never going to want anything more."

  Jared closed his eyes. "It'll kill me if you ever regret it."

  Jensen smiled. "When have I ever hurt you like that?"

  Jared swallowed. "Never,” he whispered. “But I've hurt you."

  Jensen winced, then shook his head. "Yeah, you did. But you were trying to protect me and… Considering what I'm about to do, I can't hold it against you."

  Jared's eyes were watery. But he nodded, rapid little movements that made his hair flop. "Okay," he whispered. "Okay, do it."

  Jensen breathed a sigh of relief. There were so many other things he wanted to say, like I'm in love with you and I know you love me and We're gonna stay together forever and so on. But the binding spell was more important. Pressing a soft kiss to Jared's hairline, he looked down at Genevieve's notes. 

  As he started to chant, he began to tie the free end of the scarf around his own wrist. "Ut ligatis simul… Duo corda in aeternum…” He spoke slowly, careful not to stammer over the unfamiliar litany. Between them, the scarf began to emit a gentle blue glow and Jensen felt a sudden lightness in his chest, a mix of what felt like disbelief, love and pain- Jared’s emotions. “Tua nocere potest meus…” He half-expected Jared to join in, but Jared just watched, eyes fixed on Jensen like he never wanted to look away. “Meum gaudium, potest esse vestrum.” Jensen finished the chant and looked back at him just the same.

  “Hey, I got a question.”

  Jared flopped on the couch, burrowing into Jensen’s side immediately. It was heady, being able to feel the hum of someone else’s contentment. Jensen was content. And as Jared snuggled closer, it evolved into so much affection that he felt dizzy for a second. “Yeah, what?” He managed to ask.

  “Genevieve said that the familiar spell will undo all the effects of the Trials,” Jensen said, in a slow honey drawl that meant he could feel Jared’s relaxed happiness. “Does that mean you remember that memory you’d given up?”

  Jared hummed, already knowing where this was going.

  Jensen’s contentment gained an amused airiness. “So? What was it? It was of me- you have to tell me.”

  Jared shifted, until his head was in Jensen’s lap and he was looking up at him. He held up a hand- magic sparked green at his fingertips. After a second of hesitation, Jensen touched his own fingertips to Jared’s. The green flashed gold.

  An amazed little laugh escaped Jensen. “That is so awesome- it’s never gonna get boring.”

  “Give it some time,” Jared muttered.

  Jensen frowned. “Stop feeling guilty,” he admonished. “I can feel it.”

  “Yeah,” Jared sighed. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

  “Don’t be. It’s nice.”

  Jared closed his eyes, arching into the fingers trailing through his hair. “It was around Christmas,” he murmured. “Freshman year- when we were still in the dorms. It was snowing outside and you just came back from the store. You were shivering. You took off your jacket- you were wearing my hoodie under it. I was surprised enough at that but then…”

  “What?” Jensen whispered.

  Jared looked at him. “You just hugged me. You were still so shy and reserved. I was all over you all the time- couldn’t stop myself even when I knew I should- but you hugged me. Just… Dropped onto the couch and cuddled me like a teddy bear, saying something about how I was a goddamn furnace and that I wasn’t allowed to complain about your cold feet because you had a headache. So I used my magic to help you sleep it off and…” He shrugged. “And that’s it.”

  “That’s the memory you chose to forget?” Jensen asked softly. “I don’t get it- what’s so special about it?”

  Jared inspected the ceiling with avid interest. “That’s when I-” he swallowed nervously, refusing to look at Jensen in favour of the peeling paint above him. “-fellinlovewithyou,” he finished quickly.

  Jensen chuckled, a burst of humor that Jared could feel down to his toes. “Yeah. I love you too, Jay.”

  Jared forced himself to meet the fond green gaze. His magic had always been green too. “That’s good,” he spoke through a choked up voice. “Really good, because this familiar shtick wouldn’t have worked without it.”

  Jensen yanked him upright without warning. Jared blinked several times at the sudden head rush, before realizing how close their faces were. 

  "Jensen?" He sounded way too breathy. Fuck, was his heart about to beat out of his chest? 

  "Shh," was all Jensen said and then he kissed him. 

  For a second, all Jared could do was revel in the gentle pressure, the fluttering in his stomach that could be either his own feelings or Jensen's. 

  Then Jensen whined softly, "Jared, come on, please."

  And who was Jared to argue? He kissed back with fervor, clutching his waist like a lifeline, and immediately Jensen grew bolder, fingers slipping into his hair and tugging. 

  Jared let Jensen push him onto his back, somehow making the couch fit. 

  Maybe they would let each other up for air soon. Or maybe they'd go on to explore every inch of each other. 

  But either way, Jared figured this was a first kiss that made four years of waiting completely worth it.