Ignite

Thirty-nine || Self Destruction

Okay hey, how's it going?

So I'm not super proud of this chapter, because it's really short, but at least it's on time...right?

Ehhhhhhhh, I'm sorry.

Anyway, I just have a lot of pieces to put together before the big epic super climax thingy and I'm sorry, but those pieced are kind of short and choppy. For dramatic effect, you see. Anyway, you got some Jensen/Hale interaction, though I'm not sure you'll like it. But next week's update will be better. I p r o m i s e. I just really wanted to be on schedule this week.

Savvy? Savvy.

So dedication goes to the lovely Moonblossom_Ash, because their comments really are the highlights of my day, and I'm very glad they exist.

So please enjoy this chapter, and forgive the shortness, and my lack of responses to things. I'm so so so busy, and getting into the groove of things has been harder this year. But I'm managing, and it'll get better! So I love you, thank you for being here and r/v/c-ing and enjoy!

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"Jensen?"

"Coal won't be back till Saturday," Jensen replied dully, sitting on his friend's bunk, rubbing his thumb over the charred laces of an old, familiar baseball. He had a headache.

Terra came and sat down next to him. "That's not what I was going to ask."

Jensen glanced up for a moment before returning his eyes to the baseball. "Oh."

The room felt empty, breeze blowing in through the window and swirling through the space between the two bunks. Jensen used to complain about the small size of the room, but now it felt too echoic. Evening light spilled in; the last, orange rays of the sun casting through the window and turning the room to gold.

"They'll be fine," Terra said. "They can handle themselves."

"That's not what I'm worried about." Jensen replied, voice flat.

Terra had nothing in response for a while, thinking, until she said, "They'll come back."

"Yeah," Jensen said scornfully. "Maybe in two years."

Terra reached forward and took the baseball from his hands. "You should get some sleep." she said, worry and care worming their way into Jensen's heart.

"You should stop trying to be my mother," Jensen snapped back, venom biting the words.

Terra went silent, not just in her words, but her movements became stiffer as she placed the baseball down on the chested drawers and stood. Jensen didn't look up as the door clicked closed.

Jensen felt hollow and yet he was brimming with emotion at the same time. His head hurt, lead in his veins dragging his body down. He just wanted them back. He hated missing people, hated having a hole in his chest that couldn't be filled with adrenaline. Missing people always made him ache, ache for a farm back in Tennessee, for a dad who had made him dinosaur chicken nuggets three nights in a row, for a mom who showed him how to build a treehouse in the branches of the poplar in the backyard.

God, Jensen had loved his parents. He had really loved them.

Of course, those memories never seemed enough, and Jensen found himself craving something that was gone.

Jensen let out a long breath. He wasn't proud of himself right now. This is what he did. He had a self-destructive personality, a habit of cutting the life line people threw to him.