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The first time Jared meets Dynamo, he's up to his thighs in swamp water.
There's a cut on his forehead that's bleeding into his eyes, his clothes are drenched and shapeless, and the diamond he's supposed to be salvaging is seconds away from being eaten by a grumpy yet determined crocodile.
It's safe to say he's not at his best but as he races the crocodile to the prize with an angry yell, he comforts himself with the knowledge that anyone else would fare equally terribly in the circumstances.
Of course, Dynamo chooses that moment to show up and prove him wrong.
He comes gliding out of the darkness, trailing silver sparks at his heels in a way that makes Jared wonder when crocodile fights merited such high production values. He skates over the surface of the water like it's a ballroom and does an honest to god twirl as he leans down to snatch the diamond from the jaws of defeat.
(Jared may or may not have named the crocodile 'Defeat' in a moment of self pity.)
Diamond in his gloved hand, Dynamo's momentum carries him to a tree stump sticking out of the water. He perches there, stable and successful, and Jared tries not to think about the layer of skin that he lost to that stump during an earlier tussle with the crocodile.
Dynamo, on the other hand, doesn't appear to be having any such problems when the crocodile flops onto its belly and stares up at him with rapt enchantment. Jared doesn't speak crocodile but he's pretty sure the noise it's making is one of adoration.
"Hey there," Dynamo calls, smiling at him with perfect teeth, "you need a hand?"
Jared glowers at him through his mask. "No."
"You sure?" Dynamo looks legitimately concerned. "You're bleeding."
In light of the fish currently making its way inside his pants, a little head wound doesn't seem all that bad in comparison.
"I'm fine," Jared says tightly. "I'm just gonna get cleaned up and head home."
Dynamo nods. From Jared's position at his feet, he can't avoid the realization that, as well as being competent and occasionally sparkly, Dynamo is very well-dressed. His costume is skin-tight yet flattering at the same time, decorated with silver stripes on the purple material which serve to emphasise his broad arms, narrow waist and frankly stellar ass.
It's almost enough to stop Jared wishing terrible things on him.
"If you're sure," Dynamo says, concerned. "You definitely don't need any help? I could give you a lift?"
Picturing Dynamo's face if he were to see Jared's beat-up Previa, he shakes his head. "I'm good," he promises. "See you around."
It's scraping the minimum requirements for courtesy but Dynamo brightens nonetheless. "See you around," he says, smiling and cheerful and so damn heroic it makes Jared's teeth hurt. "Stay safe, okay?"
He goes gliding off again before Jared can answer. The crocodile makes a mournful sound at his departure before slinking back underwater and Jared dislodges the fish from his pants as he mutters with fake chirpiness, "Go fuck yourself, okay?"
+++
"He's such a dick."
Danneel raises her eyebrows. "I'll take 'Unexpectedly strong feelings' for 200, Alex." She takes a sip of her beer. "Who's a dick?"
"Dynamo." He's surprised she even has to ask, considering she's the one who brought him up in the first place. "I met him out on a job last week. He's a dick."
Danneel frowns. "Really? He always seemed decent to me. What did he do?"
Jared considers the question. "It's not so much what he did," he decides. "It's just the way he acted, y'know?"
"Like a dick?"
"Like a dick," Jared agrees. "I'm in the middle of wrestling this crocodile and I'm up to my ass in the swamp and goddamn Dynamo comes swooping in and steals the job out right from under me."
Danneel looks rightfully dismayed. "He didn't even try to help you out?"
Jared purses his lips. He was kind of hoping her deadly accuracy would be confined to pointy weapons rather than casual conversation. "Not exactly. He- I was wet and it would've been awkward."
Danneel takes another sip of beer and flashes him a smile. "So what you're telling me is that Dynamo offered to help you out and you blew him off because you were embarrassed."
"Maybe." Jared sighs into his beer. "He's still a dick though. No-one should be that smooth when they're two feet from a swamp. It's like an unspoken rule of polite society."
"And now we reach the key issue," Danneel says, doing her best impression of a wildlife documentary narrator. "Here we see the charming, largely luck-based superhero react to his first encounter with his natural enemy."
"Low ceilings?"
"The well-organised superhero," she says with hushed reverence. "Truly, this is a fascinating day in the superhero kingdom."
"Shut up," Jared says, elbowing her as he downs some more beer. "I meet other superheroes. Observe the two of us hanging out right now."
"Yes, but I'm not a well-organised superhero," Danneel points out. "I'm a passive superhero. Crime comes to me."
"You're dating a supervillain."
She shrugs. "So crime also comes on me sometimes. My point still stands. Some superheroes don't work well together. You and Dynamo just happen to be some of those superheroes." She rests her elbows on the table as she picks at the label of her beer bottle. "It's kind of a shame though. He's a good guy but I get the impression he doesn't have a lot of friends."
"I wonder why," Jared mutters into his beer.
"Don't be an asshole," Danneel chides. "It's not his fault that crocodile wrestling isn't your speciality." Jared rolls his eyes and she leans in closer. "Look, do me a favor and be nice to him the next time you see him? He saved me from the Gallowsman last year -- he's sweet."
"Fine," Jared relents. "I'll be civil."
"Thank you."
"But I reserve the right to think he's a dick."
"That sounds like a reasonable compromise," Danneel says, clinking her beer against his. "Was that it for the list of superheroes you have irrational beef with or are you going to tell me you have a passionate grudge against Icarus the Wonderdog next?"
"Ah!" Swept up in enjoyable outrage, he sets his beer down with a little too much enthusiasm. "Did I tell you about the time he pissed on my shoes?"
"No," Danneel says, taking a sip of beer, "and unless you want to die alone, friendless, and bitter, you're not going to."
Jared processes this.
"So," he says with a nod, "did you hear about the spate of flying monkey attacks near Green Lake?"
+++
It turns out that the flying monkeys aren't actually monkeys.
In a shocking but not all that exciting turn of events, they're actually manifestations of the consciousness of vicious interdimensional aliens who want to subjugate the people of earth for their own gratification. It's a diabolical, if slightly flawed, scheme but it does remove Jared's lingering guilt over bludgeoning a real life monkey to death.
However, while they may not actually be monkeys, they are actually flying, which presents its own set of problems.
"I hate you all," Jared grumbles as another wave plunges down from the grey skies. His tire iron thunks unpleasantly against their bodies as he swings but thankfully they disintegrate into dust before their clawed hands can reach his face. "You are all the worst."
One of the not-actual-monkeys lets out a strange squawk as Jared clobbers it in the face and then promptly collapses into a pile of nothingness.
Jared can't help but think the aliens should have picked a more durable manifestation.
The wave circles, depleted but still armed with plenty of sharp teeth and claws, and Jared braces himself for another pass as they screech into the wind.
They bear down again, arms flailing and teeth bared, but Jared doesn't get a chance to put so much as a dent in them before something flashes across in front of his eyes. It takes him a second to identify it and then about half a second to be annoyed at the realization that Dynamo has arrived yet again to claim the glory (and/or save his ass.)
He dips through the air, a purple streak against the grey as he cuts through the wave of not-actual-monkeys with ease. One escapes the arc of his reach and comes careening towards Jared with a shriek but before Jared can even get in one pity kill, Dynamo doubles back to crack it across the head before sinking down to land in front of Jared.
Much to Jared's irritation, he nails the landing.
"Hi," Dynamo says, oblivious to Jared's seething. "I heard the flying monkeys were back in this part of town -- I figured you could use some help."
"I'm good," Jared says as two waves of faux-monkeys rise up out of the clouds. "I got it under control." Then, remembering his promise to be civil, "But I guess you could stay and help out if you wanted."
Dynamo's smile is bright and sincere, like someone grudgingly offering to let him join in just made his day.
"But stay on the ground," Jared says. "I don't want to have to worry about hitting you while I'm fighting them."
"Whatever works for you," Dynamo says, smiling up at Jared one more time before looking up to the circling swarm. "You ready?"
Settling back to back with Dynamo, Jared raises his tire iron. "I don't think the flying death monkeys really care either way."
They descend in a thick, wailing circle, close enough together that Jared is actually kind of glad for Dynamo's help. He swings again and again, ready to hit the replacement as soon as each one is reduced to dust, but even with the pace of his strikes, a couple of them sneak past his defences to land scratches to his face and arms.
From Dynamo's occasional wince of pain behind him, Jared guesses he isn't faring much better. Despite the scratches, the not-actual-monkeys don't do any real damage and by the time Jared turns to see Dynamo take out the final two, he's relieved to have made it out in one piece.
The weather doesn't seem to share his victorious sentiments and Jared sighs when the grey skies begin to make good on their threat of rain.
Clearly his day hadn't been going badly enough.
The rain and the blood trickling down his face don't seem to have dampened Dynamo's spirits any as he turns around to clap Jared on the shoulder. "Great work," he says happily. "Those were some really nice moves."
"Back at you," Jared says with as much honesty as he can muster. "Looks like a couple of them got past us though." He gestures to the claw marks on the arms of Dynamo's costume. "Is that something you can patch up?"
"Guess I'll have to ask." He gives a self-deprecating shrug and admits, "The costume wasn't really my idea. I saved a guy back in college -- a design student -- and he made it for me as a thank you. He got more well-known since then but still sends me through new ones sometimes." He glances at the cuts on Jared's arms. "How about you?"
"Most of my thank-yous involve hugging and sobbing," Jared says. "We can't all get designer costumes out of the deal." He plucks at his sleeve. "It won't be too hard to fix though."
The rain comes down harder, soaking through Jared's hood and mask enough that he can feel water begin to trickle from his hair. Raindrops cling to Dynamo's eyelashes as he looks up at him and for the first time, Jared's irritation is drowned out by the realization of just how good-looking Dynamo is.
His eyes are big and green, his lashes are dark and thick, and his lips lend themselves to inappropriate thoughts way too easily. His face is mostly covered by the mask, allowing Jared to cling on to the possibility that he may have a third eye lurking somewhere, but what he can see is unfairly attractive.
As far as friendship development goes, it's not ideal.
"I guess we should get out of the rain," Dynamo says, almost sounding reluctant to leave. "You don't need a lift or anything, right?"
"Right," Jared says. "I got transport."
"Great," Dynamo says. He begins to rise up off the ground, sparks falling from his heels, but pauses before fluttering off to parts unknown. "Oh, I'm sorry for snaking your job the other night. I didn't know anyone else had been assigned to it."
"Not a problem," Jared lies. "Already forgotten."
"If you're sure," Dynamo says. "It turned out there was a reward for handing the diamond in."
Jared is ready to throttle him, attractive face be damned, when Dynamo continues, "So I gave them your name. I know it takes a while for rewards to work their way through the chain of command but it should be with you soon." He smiles. "I figured I'd give you a heads-up -- I know I'd be freaked out if a few thousand dollars landed in my account without warning."
Jared blinks at him. "Wait, really?"
Floating in their air, Dynamo gives an embarrassed little shrug. "You did all the work," he says. "I was just the delivery guy."
"Thanks," Jared says, sincere and surprised. "That's really cool of you."
"No problem," Dynamo says. He glides higher, up into the rain, and Jared shields his eyes as he watches him go. "I'll see you around?"
"See you around," Jared says with a wave.
With one final bashful smile, Dynamo takes off and as Jared trudges back to his car to begin the usual battle with his windscreen wipers, he finds he wouldn't actually mind seeing the guy again.
His initial 'dick' judgment may have been slightly misplaced.
+++
The next time he sees Dynamo is Christmas Eve.
He's out late in the afternoon spending the last of the reward money on a present for his sister. Caught up in choosing between silver shoes and purple ones, he almost decides to ignore the alert when it comes in, right up until he sees it's an SOS from Dynamo.
It takes him thirty seconds to suit up, two minutes to get his car to start, and nearly half an hour to get out of the city to the abandoned gas station by Copper Hills.
The drive is slow even with his siren, the city streets clogged with traffic from last-minute shoppers, and as he pulls off towards the gas station, he's prepared for the possibility that other reinforcements will have already shown up and that Dynamo will already be back safe and sound in his penthouse or mansion or wherever the hell he lives.
He's not prepared to see Dynamo bleeding out on the gas station forecourt while a giant metal scorpion looms over him.
"Hey!"
The car has barely come to a stop before Jared jumps out. The scorpion looks up at the shout, its silver face twisting into something like a smile, and it brings one of its pointed legs down towards Dynamo's chest.
Dynamo rolls away at the same time that Jared charges at the scorpion.
He can't fly and is nowhere near as graceful in his attack as Dynamo probably would be, but the impact of his strength against the body of the scorpion is enough to send it toppling backwards to crash down against the concrete. It rallies, scuttling back towards the gas station, and a cold wind whips in off the road as Jared turns to check on Dynamo.
He's bleeding from a nasty collection of slices and cuts but it's the gash on his head and the stab wound to his shoulder which cause Jared the most concern. The scorpion's legs scrape on the ground as it draws itself up and Jared calls quickly, "Hey, you with me?"
Dynamo nods, breathless and barely conscious, but Jared decides to take what he can get as he focuses on the scorpion again. It charges, claws raised, and Jared ducks down to roll beneath its body and between its two lines of legs to avoid taking a pincer to the neck.
One of its back legs catches him as he goes to stand and despite reaching the unfortunate conclusion that its legs are very sharp, Jared's pleased to discover that they're also very brittle when the leg snaps off in his grip.
A well-placed kick shreds the side of his pants but knocks off two more legs from the opposite side and Jared grins in triumph when the scorpion lets out an angry bellow. He's used his super strength for lots of things in the past, including stopping cars from falling off bridges and opening jars for his mom, but tearing legs off a huge murderous scorpion is a new one, even for him.
The fourth, fifth and sixth legs follow the first three, torn free from its body and thrown out of reach, and Jared backs up, nursing a bleeding arm as the scorpion sways towards him. Its body drags on the ground, its tail throwing up showers of gold sparks as it thrashes, and its pincers still snap furiously as it bears down on him.
Eyes on the claws in front of him, Jared narrowly avoids getting impaled by the discarded leg that comes flying in his direction.
"Jesus fuck-"
He snatches it out of the air before it can hit his head and spins in the direction of the thrower, ready to tear Dynamo a new one if this was all part of some cunning plan to have him assassinated by a giant scorpion.
Fortunately (or unfortunately), Dynamo doesn't look much like an evil mastermind as he spits a mouthful of blood onto the concrete and says with a pained gasp, "Use it."
Jared does a small internal facepalm at the fact that he's held six separate sharp implements during the fight and has done nothing useful with them.
He holds his ground as the scorpion moves closer, face distorted in rage, and Jared ducks the sweep and snap of its claws as he dashes forward to slam the leg through the first body part he can reach.
It's fifty percent skill and fifty percent luck that sees him drive the leg through the scorpion's head.
It thrashes and roars, its whole body glowing and sparking as it sends Jared flying with a smack of its claws. The landing on the forecourt knocks the breath out of him and he holds a hand to his ribs with a groan as he watches the scorpion slump to the ground, its tail spasming as it splutters and dies.
Jared runs to Dynamo as soon as it stops moving.
His mask is torn half-off and Jared pulls it the rest of the way clear as he crouches down beside him. The fact that yes, Dynamo is definitely as attractive as previously suspected comes second to the open wound below his hairline and the blood painting his lips, and Jared rests a hand on his non-injured shoulder as he says gently, "Hey, you with me?"
Blinking, Dynamo tries to nod, only to wince when the movement jars his wound. "Is it dead?"
His words come out slurred, increasing Jared's concern about the head injury. "Yeah," he says, gauging the distance between them and his car. "It's dead."
Dynamo smiles. "Thank you," he says, exhausted. "I didn't know if anyone would come."
"Hey, we're superheroes," Jared says. "It's our job."
"Yeah, but most people take time off for Christmas," Dynamo says, putting a hand to his bleeding shoulder.
"Well, you're welcome," Jared says, conscious of how much blood Dynamo is still losing. "You wanna thank me by letting me give you a ride to the hospital? It's gonna take an ambulance at least thirty minutes to get out here."
Dynamo hesitates for a second, as though dying out by a rundown gas station is preferable to accepting help, but he yields quickly enough with a tiny nod. "Please."
"No judging my car," Jared says, lifting him carefully in his arms. Blood spills out of the wound on his shoulder, running thick and red down Jared's wrist, and Jared tries to hide his nervousness as he hurries to his Previa. "I know it's a piece of shit but it does the job." The back door sticks as he tries to open it. "Okay, it does the job like sixty percent of the time."
Dynamo gives him a weak smile as Jared finally manages to get him positioned across the row of seats in the car. "It's good," he says past a wince. "It's well-loved."
"I don't know if love is the word for it," Jared says, climbing into the driver's seat and pulling out as fast as he can. "More like mutual tolerance."
He suspects Dynamo's laugh is more out of politeness rather than actual amusement but he can't help but respect a guy who can still be polite when he's lost at least a pint of blood.
The siren wails as they head for the nearest hospital but Jared keeps talking as he watches Dynamo's eyes start to fall closed in the rearview mirror. "So I'm Jared. Jared Padalecki."
Dynamo opens his eyes again, frowning, and Jared explains, "We've seen each other a few times now so I figured I should at least tell you my real name. Not that you have to tell me yours or anything -- I know privacy is a big thing for some people and I totally get that. I won't pry-"
"Jensen," Dynamo says quietly.
Jared smiles at him in the mirror. "Good to meet you, Jensen." He takes a corner at speed, siren wailing, and glances back when Jensen lets out a cry of pain. "Sorry."
"M'okay," Jensen says, face pale and eyes closed, and Jared speeds up even more. It's hard to retain any animosity towards a guy when he's dying in your backseat.
"You're gonna be fine," Jared says, more out of optimism than belief. "We'll get you stitched up and home in time for Christmas tomorrow." He pauses. "I'm assuming you celebrate?"
"I try."
"Great." Jared glances back with a smile. "You got family in town?"
Jensen shakes his head. "No family."
Jared can't decide whether that means no family in town or no family anywhere but judging by the twist in his gut, he would put money on the latter. "You got plans with your girlfriend then? Or boyfriend," he adds. "Or regular friends, I guess."
Blood runs down Jensen's temple as he shakes his head again. "How pathetic do I sound if I say none of the above?"
The twist in Jared's gut solidifies into full blown sympathy. "Not pathetic," he says firmly. He does his best not to think about who would've found Jensen's body if he'd died out at the gas station. "In that case, we'll just get you stitched up and home in time for cheesy Christmas movies."
Jensen looks surprised at that, as though he was expecting Jared to make fun of him or something equally dickish. Sympathy flares up in Jared's chest at the tired smile that touches his lips as Jensen says, hurting and exhausted, "Sounds like a plan."
+++
Jared leaves Jensen at the hospital.
He sticks around long enough to get confirmation from the doctors that he's not going to die of bloodloss or skull fractures any time soon but takes off before Jensen comes to. As much as he wants to stick around and help, it's Christmas Eve and he has gifts to buy, family to see, and eggnog to lay claim to.
Unfortunately, the lure of family responsibility doesn't quite make up for the guilt of leaving Jensen there to wake up on his own and so, four eggnogs later, he finds himself dialing Danneel's number in an effort to quieten his conscience.
"Dynamo doesn't have any friends," he says as soon as she picks up.
"Merry Christmas to you too," Danneel says around a yawn.
A quick glance at his clock confirms that it's officially Christmas morning now, albeit at least seven hours before the Padalecki Christmas machine actually rolls into action, and he says, "Oh. Right. Merry Christmas."
"Well, that was super convincing," Danneel says with a heavy dose of sarcasm. "I feel loved and valued as a friend."
Jared makes a half-hearted attempt at small-talk. "How's Canada?"
"Cold as fuck," Danneel says. "Why are you calling me at midnight on Christmas Eve to talk about Dynamo's lack of friends? Especially when I was the one who told you this."
"You said he didn't have a lot of friends," Jared points out. "Not that he didn't have any friends."
"He does have friends," Danneel says. "No-one really dislikes him, except you with your freakish grudge. He just doesn't seem super close to anyone." She sighs. "Why are we even having this conversation?"
"Because I saw him today," Jared says. "SOS, giant scorpion, the usual, but I got talking to him when I was driving him to the hospital and he said he didn't have any plans for Christmas."
Danneel doesn't bother to hide a yawn. "And?"
"And that sucks," Jared says. "He spends his whole year saving lives and no-one invites him over for Christmas?"
"Maybe he never asked anyone," Danneel says. "Maybe he likes spending the holidays on his own."
Jared persists. "But he sounded sad about it. He doesn't even have his family around or anything."
"Well, yeah," Danneel says. "His parents died when he was a kid."
Jared cringes in sympathy. "I don't suppose he was raised in a giant mansion by a kind, grandfatherly butler?"
"Try 'in care homes by the state'," she says. "How is this new information to you? Tragic superhero backstories are pretty much common knowledge by this point. Next you'll be telling me you didn't know Icarus was a rescue dog."
"Of course I knew that," Jared lies. He suddenly feels guilty for complaining about the shoe pissing so much. "I just missed the memo on Dynamo."
"Uh-huh." She doesn't sound convinced. "Look, I don't know what you want me to do about Dynamo. He's a good guy and I'm sorry he got hurt but if he wants to be alone on Christmas, that's his choice. He's a grown man with a decent set of superpowers. I'm sure he can cope."
"Whatever you say, Scrooge," Jared mutters.
"Hey," she says, laughing. "If you're so concerned, just ask him to spend Christmas with you. That way you can stop feeling guilty when he turns you down."
"But that's awkward," Jared says. "I barely know the guy. Plus he got stabbed in the shoulder today -- dumping him in a room with my family seems cruel."
"So then just leave him to his own devices," she says. "You can take him out for a beer or something in the new year."
There's a rustle on the other end of the line and Danneel's voice hitches on a laugh when she says, "Apparently I'm needed for Christmas sex. I'll see you when I get back, okay? Have a great day and stop worrying about Dynamo."
"Enjoy your vacation," Jared says as the rustling gets louder. "Bye!"
He hangs up before he can overhear any actual sex noises and burrows down under the covers to go to sleep.
He lasts maybe ten seconds before worrying about Jensen again.
+++
They don't quite get snow on Christmas morning but much to the delight of Jared's excitable nephew, it starts falling mid-afternoon when they're all recovering from the exertions of lunch.
The food is good, the house is warm, and his family are loud but wonderful, and so when Jared finds himself standing outside Jensen's apartment later that evening, he isn't entirely sure what motivated him to venture out into the falling snow.
He stopped in at the hospital first, only to be told Jensen had been patched up and had gone home. He doesn't think covertly rifling through patient forms to find Jensen's address was strictly allowed but since he stabbed a metal scorpion in the face for the good of the city the day before, he figures he's allowed an occasional legal misstep.
The snow is thick beneath his boots when he extricates himself and his bag from his car but as he looks up at Jensen's building, he's not sure whether he'd be any warmer inside.
Jensen's place definitely isn't a mansion or a penthouse or any of the other grand houses Jared had pictured after his first encounter with Dynamo. His building is old and rundown, with boarded windows and broken gutters, and as Jared heads inside, he's greeted with the smell of urine in the stairwell and the sounds of two guys shouting in one of the apartments on the first floor.
Jared quickly regrets taking the reward money for the diamond.
He doesn't linger too long as he jogs up to knock on the door of Jensen's apartment. He runs through his opening lines in his head, planning something heroic and charming and potentially witty, but when Jensen's face appears in the gap between the door and the frame, the best Jared can manage is an awkward wave.
"Hi."
Jensen's eyebrows go up in surprise and then down in confusion. "Jared?"
"Hi," he says again. It's no less awkward the second time.
Jensen stares. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see how you were," Jared says. "You were gone from the hospital so I figured I'd check in here." Jensen doesn't make a move to take the security chain off the door and Jared backs off a little. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to barge in on you like this. I was just worried, what with you being hurt and everything, but I can go if you-"
"No," Jensen cuts in. "It's fine. Come on in."
The door closes for a second while he removes the chain but it soon swings open as Jensen lets him inside.
"I, uh- It's kind of a mess," Jensen says. "I wasn't expecting company."
Jensen's version of mess is a long way removed from Jared's. The apartment is cold, with threadbare carpet, draughty windows and some kind of leak dripping from the ceiling in one corner, but otherwise it's fastidiously tidy, save for a pile of blankets on the couch and a bowl of popcorn on the table.
"Are you kidding?" Jared says with a grin. "You should've seen what my room looked like all through high school. A small family of raccoons could've moved in and no-one would've noticed the difference."
He's pleased to see Jensen smile at that as he leans against his kitchen counter. He's still pale from the bloodloss with a dressing on his forehead and a bandage peeking out of the neck of his sweater, and Jared feels wrong-footed at seeing him like this, off-guard and out of his costume.
"How're you feeling?" Jared asks. "You looked pretty out of it yesterday."
"I'm okay," Jensen says. "Sore but I guess it's part of the job, right? There's nothing that won't heal."
"I'm sorry for leaving you in the hospital like that." It's weird to say out loud -- there's no real reason he needed to hang around for someone who's only a colleague at best -- but it feels better getting it out. "My folks were waiting for me and once the doctors said you were gonna be okay, I figured I should go see them."
"You don't need to apologize," Jensen says. "You did more than enough for me already."
"Well, consider this me soothing my own conscience then," Jared says, holding out the plastic bag in his hand. Jensen hesitates but takes it as Jared explains, "We made way too much food and I didn't think you'd feel like cooking with your shoulder all torn up."
Jensen raises an eyebrow as he lifts a fluffy brown teddy bear out of the bag.
Jared scrubs a hand over the back of his neck. "Merry Christmas, I guess? It was kind of a last minute impulse grab," he says as Jensen looks back up at him. "And obviously a very questionable impulse. Sorry."
Setting the bag and the bear down, Jensen leans back against the counter. "Why are you here, Jared? What is it, guilt? Pity?"
Both guesses are uncomfortably close to a bullseye and Jared bites his lip as Jensen says, "You saved my life yesterday and I'm grateful for that but I don't need all this. I can look after myself."
"I never said you couldn't," Jared says. "I just- It's Christmas and I thought-"
"That you'd swing by for some quick charity work?" Jensen shakes his head. "Look, I know you don't like me much. And whatever, I'm sure you've got your reasons, but don't show up here pretending like you actually give a damn about me."
Standing upright again, he presses the bag into Jared's hands before heading to the door. "I don't know whether you feel bad for me or if you just want to show off that you've got people to cook dinner for you, but either way, I don't care." He pulls the door open and stands by it expectantly. "Just leave me alone."
"I-" He stops himself. It's an effort to swallow down his pride but he keeps it in check as he says simply, "Okay."
Jensen does a double-take at the surrender.
"I didn't mean to show off about anything," Jared says, moving into the doorway. "But you're half right. I'm not gonna lie, the first time I met you, I kind of thought you were a dick."
"Gee, thanks," Jensen says, eyes cold.
"Hey, I was up to my waist in swamp water and had been fighting a crocodile for twenty minutes when you swooped in and did my job for me," Jared points out. "There were fish in my pants. I was grumpy."
A smirk flickers across Jensen's lips. "There were fish in your pants?"
"It was traumatic for all concerned," Jared says. "So yeah, I thought you were a dick at first but then I saw you again with the fake flying monkeys and you seemed like a pretty great guy. Why do you think I came running when I got your SOS yesterday?"
"Because you're the only other superhero who isn't out of town for the holidays?"
Jared considers. "Okay, yeah, that's probably a factor but me not wanting you to die was also kind of crucial. Then you said you were on your own for the holidays and yeah, I felt bad for you. Not because you're some charity case but because I like you and didn't want you to have a crappy Christmas." He looks at the dressing on his forehead and the lingering red of the scrapes on his cheek. "At least not any crappier than it already is."
"I'm fine," Jensen says. "I've been on my own for a long time -- another Christmas doesn't make a difference."
"You sure?" Jared asks. "I admit that bringing you leftovers was a massively dumb thing to do but I'm here if you need anything else."
Jensen looks skeptical but Jared pushes, "I mean it. If it would seriously make you happiest to get back under those blankets, eat some popcorn and watch bad movies on your own, that's great. Say the word and I'll leave. But if you'd prefer anything else, whether it's someone to take you out for dinner or to pick up some takeout for you or just to hang out here and steal half your popcorn, I can do that."
"Why?" Jensen asks softly. "What's in it for you?"
"Helping out a friend," Jared offers. "You should try it sometime. I hear it's pretty great. Not as great as a last minute teddy bear, obviously, but they can't all be winners."
Jensen smiles at that, tired but finally lowering his defences a little, and Jared goes for the opening. "Is that a yes? You want me to go make dinner reservations?"
Jensen shakes his head. "No reservations," he says, curling his fingers in the sleeves of his sweater. "But you could stay, if you wanted? I know it's cold and there's the leak but the blankets are warm and the TV works most of the time."
"Sounds perfect," Jared says honestly.
He steps further into the apartment, setting his jacket and bag on a chair as Jensen closes the door again, and he looks back when Jensen says with a smile, "Nice sweater."
"I think the term you're looking for is 'majestic'," Jared says, lifting his arms up to show off the multi-colored reindeer on the front of his sweater in all its glory. "You should see my pajamas."
Jensen laughs. "Maybe next time."
He flicks half the lights off and settles on the couch as Jared toes his shoes off and goes to join him. He wasn't lying -- despite the coldness of the apartment, the blankets are impressively snug -- and Jared takes a shot at the popcorn while Jensen goes for the remote. "What're we watching?"
"I was in the middle of Wizard of Oz," Jensen admits. "Unless there's something else you wanna watch? I can put on whatever you-"
"Wizard of Oz is great," Jared says. "Anyway, you get to call the shots today. I can always pick a movie next time."
Cueing up the movie, Jensen tucks himself under the blankets. "Next time?"
"Friends do usually hang out more than once in their lives," Jared teases. "I don't know about you but things are usually pretty quiet for me between Christmas and New Year. We could get through all the Indiana Jones movies by January if you're free."
Jensen's nose crinkles in a way that Jared mostly finds endearing. "Not the last one."
"Motion seconded, motion carried."
Jensen laughs, inching a fraction closer, and Jared rests his arm carefully around him, avoiding his injured shoulder as best he can. On screen, Dorothy is encountering the Tin Man for the first time and Jared sits back to watch as Jensen whispers, "Thank you."
It's a fight not to look down at him but Jared keeps his eyes on the screen and his tone casual as he gives Jensen's arm a gentle squeeze. "Don't mention it."
Outside the windows, the snow falls thick and fast, and Jared settles into the warmth of the blankets as Jensen finally relaxes against his side, exhausted but content.
He's asleep on Jared's shoulder before the Cowardly Lion even shows up.