Recent posts:

Happy Sam: Jensen + Sam + Dean = Happy Sam

Forsaken: Dean makes the worst mistake of his life.

Dance with me!verse: Prom night changes Jared's life.

Merry Christmas: A short, schmoopy, Christmas morning fic

The hardest hit: Jensen is sent to kill J. Padalecki. Only things do not go as planned

Lingering tragedies: A hostage situation on set turns into something far more gruesome

A few good men: Jared gets hurt hearing Jensen call another man 'Sam'

Christmas special: Threesome, hotness, Jared gets something a little bit different for Christmas

Finding home: Jared gets back from war, only to find that his family is living with another man

Smoke gets in your eyes: Jensen's engaged to Danneel now. Jared's hurting - badly.

I think I love you... hypothetically speaking: Jensen learns a lot in a short space of time, mainly about Jared.

World's apart: Peasants are below nobles. So why is Sir Ackles taking an interest in peasant-boy Jared? Love or something else?

Without words: The boys' relationship is special one. They don't need words.

Concrete angel:

Jared grows up in a broken home. Lost and alone, hurt by those who should protect him, he makes his way through life. The arrival of the new gym coach, Mr Ackles, changes things quite drastically: “Clumsy, my ass,” I growl, making him jump. Instantly regretting the anger in my voice, I reach out, wincing when he shies away from my hand, but not stopping as I run a hand gently over his shoulder, “Jared… whatever… whatever’s happening… if you need to talk about… anything, just know that I’m here, okay?"

27,000 words, NC-17, ANGST, HURT!Jared, bottom!Jared, abuse, non-con, underage

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Jared was five when his mom died.

 

“Jared, honey, are you nearly ready? We don’t want to be late; Susie will be worried.”

His face appears through the stair railing, “Mommy. I need to find Grass. I want Grass.”

Her soft laughter warms the room, followed by, “He’s under Daddy’s briefcase, remember?”

“Oh, oops,” he grins toothily, “You the best, Mom.” Then he disappears, bounding up the stairs.

Once he has his bunny tucked under his arm, he races outside to grab her hand. “Come on, Mommy. We don’t want to be late,” he mimics her from earlier, tugging her after him as if she had been the naughty one.

She pulls him back towards her, wrapping an arm around him and planting a soft kiss on his brow, “Yeah, yeah. Here you go; I made you your favourite.”

Taking the travel mug of hot chocolate with a happy grin, Jared bounces up and down a bit, spilling some as he asks, “What we doing today?”

“Well, let’s see what Susie feels like, maybe you should ask if you can go to the beach, wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Fun, fun, fun,” he cheers happily, kicking at a pebble nearby.

When they reach Susie’s house and she waves at them from the porch, Jared declares proudly, “Mommy says we have to go to beach today, she said we have to have fun.”

“Oh, did she now?” Susie asks with raised eyebrows. “Well, we’d better do what Mommy says, right?”

“Right,” he nods his head seriously.

“Now, you be good for Susie, okay? I want to hear all about how you’ve been such a good boy when I come pick you up, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy.”

She ducks down to kiss him on the cheek, “See you later.”

Jared grins and moves to follow Susie into the house, but he stops and turns back.

Just as she’s about to cross the road, he calls out, “Mommy?” and she glances back at him.

“Yes, Jared?”

Shooting her another dimpled smile, he laughs, “Love you!”

She grins happily, taking a step backwards, “Love you too, angel.”

He’s the one who sees it first, letting out a sharp cry of warning and, beginning to run forwards with his arms outstretched, ignoring the shattering mug of hot chocolate. But it’s too late; the car’s moving too fast.

The shrieking of tires fills the air, accompanied by Jared’s scream for his mom. He knows that cars hurt; he doesn’t want his mom being hurt.

There’s a horrifying thud of flesh and bone against metal, then there’s silence. Jared’s there before the terrified driver even slips out of his car. Jared’s there, crouching beside his mom, tears streaming down his face as he shakes her desperately.

“Mom…Mommy? Please, Mom… please, wake up! Mom… Mom, please… please… No, no… Mommy…”

He doesn’t see anything else for the next couple of hours, just his mom’s beautiful face, painted red. But he knows it’s bad. His mom didn’t wake up for him. His mom always wakes up for him.

Arms wrap around him, pulling him away. He struggles against them, trying to stop them
taking him from her side. He sees people in weird uniforms running around. He hears crying. He sees his mom’s still form being put away in a black bag like she always puts the rubbish in on Mondays.

He doesn’t know why they’re doing this.

He just wants his mom back.

 

I never meant to hurt you; I'm not that way at all.
Please believe the words of a heart, a heart that seems so small.
And I never meant to hurt you; I guess I lost my place.
Please believe the words of a heart, a heart that hides its face.

Why do I do things I never mean to do?
Why did I speak so carelessly when all that I felt was love for you?

 

Jared was six when his dad first hit him.

 

“Daddy,” he calls softly, wrinkling his nose up at the smell of the office. His dad’s been drinking that yucky stuff again.

Jared wishes he wouldn’t. He’s scary after: louder and clumsier. When he’s like this, Jared usually tries to stay out of his way, either staying outside or hiding in his bedroom.

But tonight he can’t.

“Daddy,” he whispers into the gloom, squeezing Grass to his chest. “There’s no food left…I’m really hungry...”

“What did you say, boy?” comes a growl from the armchair.

He’s shaking, but his stomach grumbles and makes its presence known again, “Please, Daddy… There’s no food.”

“Come’re,” mutters a raspy voice that sends shivers down Jared’s spine.

Not certain that he wants to go up to his dad, Jared clutches his stuffed bunny closer and only shuffles tentatively towards the man.

But then his dad barks, “I said come here, boy!” and he quickly moves to stand before his father with his head lowered.

There’s movement, and then Jared’s on the floor, hurting more than he’s ever hurt in his life. He feels something wet coming out of his nose, and through his tears, he looks down at his blood-coated hands. Red. Like his mom. He begins crying harder.

He wants his mom. He wants to not be afraid anymore. Dad wasn’t like this when she was with them.

“Daddy,” he sobs, “Please, Daddy…”

The man’s striding towards him, his face so furious it makes Jared slither back until he hits the wall.

“You fucking bastard! You… you want more food? Huh? What I give you isn’t good enough? Everything… you took everything from me and now you want more?”

He doesn’t understand why his dad is saying this; he doesn’t know what he took. “Daddy…” he pleads weakly, cutting off with a cry when a booted foot hits him in the side, making him curl up in pain.

“And what’s up with your stupid fucking toy? You’re such a snivelling baby, aren’t you? Your mother would be ashamed of you,” hisses the man as he angrily yanks Grass from Jared’s fingers.

Whimpering softly, Jared turns to hide his hurting face in the carpet.

He doesn’t know why this is happening.

He just wants his mom back.

 

Head's a crying wasteland
Filled with shame
Cried for help and
Nobody came 

His father beats him
No hesitation
His face left dripping
In humiliation

As he lies wounded
His father turns to clay
A frozen statue
Can't walk away

 

Jared was eight when his dad taught him how worthless he was.

 

“Dad, look, I got my test mark back today,” Jared calls excitedly as he steps towards his father. He worked so hard for this; he just wants his dad to be happy with him again.

His dad lets out a grunt from the couch and lights another cigarette.

“The teacher says I got the best mark in the grade,” Jared says softly, desperately wanting his dad to smile at him.

When the man grabs the test from his hands Jared smiles albeit proudly; Ninety-five percent is not too bad.

His dad just snorts, “This is what you waste your fucking time on? Pah, this what I pay your bloody school money for? This is disgusting, you pansy assed boy. Such a freak.” Then the man presses the tip of his cigarette to the paper, ignoring Jared’s soft cry as it catches alight.

Holding it by the corner until there’s nothing left but ashes, Jared’s dad mutters about arrogant pricks and sons who think they’re all that. Then he grabs Jared’s hand and drags the softly crying child towards him. “So fucking pathetic, aren’t you, boy?”

When Jared just lets out a soft sob, he seems to get even angrier, yanking Jared’s shirtsleeve up and pressing the butt of his cigarette to the boy’s wrist, making him cry out in pain and begin struggling to free himself.

The man just grins until the cigarette is completely out and then he shoves Jared away from him. “Get out of my sight.”

 

Suffer the Little Children
At the hands of evil men
No baby dolls, no teddy bears
No lullabies for them.
Every mother's nightmare
Will it ever end
Suffer the Little Children
At the hands of evil men

 

Jared was ten when his dad remarried.

 

She smells like smoke and alcohol. Her clothes are bright and colourful, barely covering her body. Her lips are red like blood.

Jared doesn’t like her.

“Boy, this your new mommy, okay?” his dad sneers.

He shakes his head, tears springing to his eyes. She can’t be his new mommy. He has a mommy. She’s just not here anymore. He doesn’t want a new one.

Storming up to him, his father grips his face between thumb and forefinger, pressing at his cheeks painfully. “What are you crying about? You should be grateful. She’s here to help me take care of your sorry ass.”

Then heavy footfalls sound on the porch and a boy with broad shoulders and a stocky form steps through. His lips are pulled into a cruel leer, his eyes small and narrowed, and his beefy nose only provides the finishing touches to the squashed-pig look. Everything about him is scary to Jared, who is still so small and skinny for his age.

“This here’s Nathan. He’s my son,” the woman with blood red nails states proudly. “He’s going to be your big brother from now on.”

Nathan’s eyes glint with something that makes Jared long to just run away and hide. But his dad’s hand is painful, so he just nods and whispers hoarsely, “Nice to meet you.”

 

They cry in the dark, so you cant see their tears
They hide in the light, so you cant see their fears
Forgive and forget, all the while
Love and pain become one and the same
In the eyes of a wounded child
Because hell
Hell is for children
And you know that their little lives can become such a mess
Hell
Hell is for children
And you shouldn’t have to pay for your love with your bones and your flesh

 

Jared was eleven when he was beaten so badly he needed to go to hospital.

 

Jared cries out as a hard fist crashes into his stomach, sending him skidding across the floor and into the table leg.

Whimpering softly, he tries to curl up, but a strong hand yanks him back, “What’s the matter, kid, you too much of a wuss to fight back? Huh? No wonder your daddy hates you.” Another blow comes to his side. “You’re such a baby. Are you going to cry? Awww, yes you are, just like the pathetic bitch you are, ain’t that right?”

“Ple…please,” Jared begs softly, wanting the pain to be over, just wanting everything to be over.

“You ready to be a good boy?” Nathan sneers.

“Ye…yes,” Jared gets out through trembling lips. He hurts so badly, he’ll do anything to make it stop.

“Go and fetch your dad’s whiskey. You know where it is, don’t you?”

“Please….” Jared cries, “He’ll… he’ll be mad…”

“Well, that’s your problem then, ain’t it? Now go get me that bottle,” he finishes with a final slap of the cheek.

Jared’s sobbing as he tries to get his feet beneath him. His vision dims at the pain shooting through him, but a shove from Nathan has him stumbling in the right direction.

As he steps into the office, he shivers and peers around. His dad will be so angry.

The whiskey is on the top shelf, hidden behind one of the books. Jared isn’t tall enough to reach it, so he drags a small table across, moaning in pain as he hefts himself up.

Reaching for the bottle, his fingers just brushing it, Jared inches a step closer, stretching for it.

The table tips over, causing his hand to crash into the bottle and sending him flying to bash his head on the floor, making enough noise for his dad to come pounding up the stairs.

It’s obvious from the shattered glass and whiskey around him what he was trying to do. A loud, angry outburst escapes the man and he yanks Jared up by the collar, “What do you think you’re doing, boy?”

A large fist smashes into his face.

“Please… Daddy… please…” He cuts off when a hand wraps painfully in his hair and jerks his head back.

“You’re no son of mine,” the man growls.

After that, it’s pain, and screaming, and tears.

But the loud crack that comes from his wrist has the room falling deadly silent except for his hoarse breathing.

His dad yanks back his shirt, making him sob even harder and try to struggle away. When the man’s hand wraps around his broken wrist and squeezes, Jared blacks out.

Two days later, his arm has swollen to twice its size and it hurts so badly that Jared nearly passes out with its every movement. He can barely stand, each time he tries his vision sways and blurs scarily. And even though he’s constantly shivering, his skin is on fire, sweat pouring off him.

He begs his dad to take him to hospital, begs for some relief from the excruciating pain, but the answer’s always, “No, you fucking deserve this, you stealing bitch!”

Surprisingly, it’s his stepmother who finally intervenes. With her red lips pursed thin, she silently wraps an arm around his shoulders and carries the weak boy outside. His dad’s at work so the car isn’t in the driveway.

Jared sits, cradling his arm for over thirty minutes, his world swaying with every bump the bus passes over.

The doctors ask what happened. Jared hears his stepmother go on about falling from a tree, how they all thought it wasn’t bad, that the bruises are from rocks that were on the ground and more lies for every question.

He wants to open his mouth, tell them what really happened, but he can’t. His dad has told him what to say when asked about his bruises; he knows if he makes a mistake, his dad will kill him.

Besides, Jared deserves to be hurt. He’s a bad boy. He’s the reason Mommy’s gone.

 

I think it's because I'm clumsy
I try not to talk too loud
Maybe it's because I'm crazy
I try not to act too proud

They only hit until you cry
And after that you don't ask why
You just don't argue anymore
You just don't argue anymore
You just don't argue anymore

Yes I think I'm okay
I walked into the door again
Well, if you ask that's what I'll say
And it's not your business anyway
I guess I'd like to be alone
With nothing broken, nothing thrown 

Just don't ask me how I am

 

 

Jared was twelve when his stepmother died of an overdose.
He was also twelve when he realised he looked too much like his mother for his own good.

 

He hears the heavy footfalls in the passage, heading towards his room. His father’s hoarse breathing is magnified in the silence, making uncontrollable trembles wrack through his body.  

As the door creaks open, the shadow of the man falls through the doorway, stretching across the floor.

Jared scoots further up his bed, clutching his thin blankets to his chin. “Daddy?” he calls tentatively, his voice shaking.

The man steps into the room, lowering himself on the edge of the bed with his head bowed.

Instinctively knowing that his dad is hurting, Jared reaches out a quivering hand, brushing it over the man’s shoulder, “Daddy, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, Jared,” the hoarse voice whispers, making the boy jump. It’s the first time in ages that his dad’s called him by his real name.

Hot tears fill his eyes and he chokes out, “Why, Daddy? What for?”

The man turns towards Jared, reaching out to brush a hand gently down the side of his face, “You’re so beautiful, Jared. You’re… you’re just like her…. So beautiful…”

Shifting nervously backwards, Jared tries not to flinch at the feral look spreading across his dad’s tear-streaked face.

“You have her eyes,” the man whispers, thumbing just beneath them. “Her lips,” he moves forward, eyes fixed on Jared's mouth, but the kid looks away, just wanting his dad to leave him alone. He's so tired.

When the man's mouth presses wetly against his neck, the boy gasps, quickly pulling away.

“Daddy, what…what are you doing?”

His dad’s furious eyes flick up to his as the man yanks him back, biting and sucking at his skin brutally. Jared begins crying; fruitlessly trying to struggle away from his father, but his movement just makes the man even madder.

In a quick move, Jared’s father is on top of him, heavy weight pressing down and making it hard for him to breathe and impossible for him to move. “Daddy,” he chokes, “Please… please, Daddy, don’t…”

Something hot and hard presses down against Jared’s crotch and he begins panicking, even more desperate to get away, he knows this is bad. This isn’t right. He doesn’t understand why this is happening.

“It’s your fault, anyway,” the man grunts, flipping Jared over and reaching down to push his pyjama pants down, exposing the boy’s naked ass to the cold night’s air, “You killed her, you took her away from me. I deserve to have this. You owe it to me.”

“Please… no… Daddy…”

A thick finger is shoved into Jared’s hole, making him cry out in agony.

He thrashes helplessly from side to side, unable to understand why. It just hurts so badly.

“Shut. Up.” The man growls, clamping a hand over Jared’s mouth, making his breath shorten and quicken, as the pain and panic only gets worse.

When he feels something hot and wet pressing at his entrance, he shies away in terror, only to be crushed closer by the man’s bulk, “Stay fucking still!”

There’s a thrust of his dad’s hips and Jared is being spit in half.

His world fades.

A few moments later, he comes to, with his dad still inside of him, thrusting and panting. Jared turns unseeing eyes to the side, just willing it all to be over.


There's a crack in the doorway lets it into my room
Tells me everything tells me everything
I curl up in a ball
Try to slide in the crack between the bed and the wall
I am falling I am falling

Daddy they'll know
I'll walk funny and they'll know I've been bad
Daddy please don't please don't please don't
I'm shaking all over
I squeeze my legs together just as tight as I can
You can't you can't you can okay okay okay
I see the tree through the window
The tree is my friend
I see the moon through the clouds
And the stars without end
I am flying away I am dying

What price to pay
For bad wisdom
What price to pay
For bad wisdom
Too young to know
Too much too soon
Bad wisdom
Bad wisdom

 

Jared was fourteen when he learned that school wasn’t such a safe haven after all.

 

It’s his first day of high school. He’s so excited he can barely sit still, despite the bruises on his thighs and stomach. Longer school hours mean less time spent at home with his drunken father.

And it’s also a fresh start. The people here don’t know him.

A boy with blonde hair approaches him and Jared looks up with a nervous smile, wondering whether he might even get the chance to make friends here.

The boy just eyes him up and down, then sneers, “What do you think you’re wearing?”

Dropping his gaze to his worn grey sweater, he notices the number of holes and stains for the first time. A deep flush spreads over his cheeks as the boy laughs and saunters away, back to the group, who all burst out laughing.

Jared feels like sinking into the ground.

His dad never buys him anything new; he doesn’t deserve to have new stuff.

Finding a small corner on the playground, he tries not to show how much he’s hurting. He pulls out his timetable to distract himself, trying to match his subject venues to spots on the map.

When the bell rings, he stands and heads toward the building, being swallowed up by the crowd in no time, jostled in every direction. Finally managing to free himself, he realises he’s completely lost.

After about twenty minutes, he finally finds the right classroom and stumbles in. Laughter meets him and he flushes, turning to the teacher. “Sorry, sir… I… I got lost…”

The man laughs, “You must be Jared?”

Flushing down to his toes, Jared nods numbly, hoping the man isn’t angry.

When the man’s hand reaches out for him, he instantly cringes away, expecting a hit. The class only laughs harder as the teacher shakes the stack of notes he’s holding.

Taking them silently, Jared searches for a free spot, finding one on the left. As he slides into the seat, the person beside him moves away, holding their nose.

Jared just keeps his gaze lowered to his desk; it’s been a while since his dad allowed him to shower.

By the time lunch comes, his bruises are aching like crazy and he’s absolutely exhausted. But there’s one good thing about this school: they have school lunches. Jared hasn’t had a proper meal in God-knows how long.

The lunch lady smiles as she dishes out his food. It’s the first smile he’s gotten all day, so he smiles right back. Then he realises that it’s the same programmed smile she’s giving every one of the kids in the line and his smile falls away as he ducks his head, murmurs a thanks and turns to try find himself a table.

He spots an empty one in the corner, and is just heading for it when a foot slides out and trips him, sending him tumbling into a heap, his lunch flying everywhere. The already-there bruises on his side and legs hurt so badly he can barely hold back tears. But when he looks at his lunch, looks at the mess that he can’t possibly salvage, he feels something inside of him break.

Getting up silently, he doesn’t even look at the boy who tripped him. He just swings his backpack up over his shoulder and moves invisibly towards the door. 

 

In the empty spaces of the mind, that's where I store my past
A ghostly image that I fear has yet to be surpassed 
I pray that I won't carry all the pain 'till the end
A lonely child with battered eyes 
No joy in innocence they cry. 
Always has to lie his way through life
Instinct to defend, where does it all end 
How does a child get himself out of harm's way?
A lifelong price to pay
No one to turn to, oh, how dare you? 
How does a child get himself out of harm's way? 
A price no one should pay
Can't you see the tears they're crying 
Don't you care your kids are dying? 
From the senseless torment that you put them through
There's different kinds of lies to tell 
Abuse is from the pit of hell 
A demon with a goal that is to kill

 

Jared was fifteen when someone other than his father first forced him to his knees.

 

Nathan is drunk. Yelling about some girl at his school who is such a whore that she sleeps with everybody, but she still refuses to sleep with him.

Jared just keeps as quiet as possible. His dad has gone for the weekend with his new bimbo. They are gone until tomorrow. It’s just Nathan and him.

“What are you staring at, boy?” Nathan snarls. “You think you’re better than me? Huh? Huh?”

“N…no,” Jared stutters.

“You and your fucking eyes; don’t... Don’t look at me like that!”

Jared immediately drops his gaze, hiding behind his bangs.

This only seems to make Nathan even angrier. “You think you have it all, don’t you? You fucking bitch with your fucking fuck-me eyes. You’re just asking for it, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be asking for, so he just keeps his head lowered.

“Fuck you! Fuck you!” Nathan growls, yanking Jared towards him. “I’ll show you. You and your fucking perfect… On your knees! Now!”

“Na… Nathan,” Jared murmurs, not sure what’s happening, “Nathan, please…”

“You’re begging for it, huh? Filthy slut, let’s find out what your daddy-dearest sees in you.”

Heavy hands press down painfully on his shoulder, causing his knees to buckle. He crashes down, kneeling before Nathan.

The boy grabs his chin and tilts his face upwards, muttering, “Fucking eyes,” before ramming a thumb against Jared’s jaw, forcing his mouth open.

Jared struggles and pleads for it to stop, but the coldness in Nathan’s eyes doesn’t flicker as he forces the boy’s mouth open wider.

There’re tears streaming down his cheeks, made even worse when Nathan begins unbuckling his jeans.

Jared’s throat closes up at the sight of Nathan’s dick right before him. Huge and angry: an ugly red colour. In one quick move, Nathan thrusts it into Jared’s mouth, choking the younger boy with it and laughing.

“Yeah, not so perfect now, huh? Fucking whore, take it! I said, take it!”

He feels like his mouth is being ripped open. Choking and gagging on the length, he tries to pull away for air, but Nathan is unrelenting, his hands fisting painfully in the younger boy’s hair.

Luckily it doesn’t last that long before Nathan’s hips are jerking erratically and he comes without warning, filling Jared’s mouth with his bitter juices and pulls out. Jared chokes and heaves, but Nathan just forces his mouth shut and sneers. “Swallow it! You asked for it, now fucking swallow it!”

All Jared can do is swallow the bile and come.

When he’s finally released, he staggers to the bathroom, grateful for the fact that his dad isn’t here to stop him from crawling into the shower and turning it on full. He throws up again and again until his belly is completely empty of the pittance of food he’d managed to find; then he throws up again.

 

He takes it in, he hangs his chin, he ducks another blow
Did God overlook it
What ought have been written
The eleventh commandment
Honour thy children
He cries for hours, cries and never stops
He'll never have the chance to be brand new

 

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