Nobody Sees, Nobody Knows [Jensen Ackles + Misha Collins | Cockles | mxm]

Chapter Twenty-Six

We eat dinner in the backyard, and remain outside until the fire is merely a faint glow of embers and twists of smoke in the dark.

Vicki yawns and heads inside to help wash the dishes while me and the guys fold up the chairs and clear the fire.

"I'm gonna hit the hay," Osric announces after a while.

"But it's our last night here," I protest. "Come on, let's do something."

Jensen pulls the sleeve over the red-and-black deck chair he's folded up.

"I agree. I'm going canoeing."

"Out on the lake in the dark?" Osric is nonplussed. "Um..."

"That's actually a good idea." Jared's eyes widen enthusiastically. "You can stargaze, maybe even swim a little, since the water's warmer than the air right about now."

But Osric, Tahmoh and Mark head inside, and I'm about to follow suit when Jared places a hand on my arm. He nods towards where Jensen is strolling down to the lake, beer bottle in hand.

"You gonna let him go alone?"

"Sure," I shrug. "Why not?"

No fucks given.

"I think you should go with him. You two need to sort your shit-"

"Thanks, but I think I'll pass," I cut him off tersely. Jared sighs in exasperation.

"I'm asking you, as a favour to me, to spend like ten minutes with the guy," he grinds out.

I glare after Jensen's retreating shadow. It's almost pitch-black except for the smattering of pewter pinpricks on the lake, a reflection of the stars. Out here, the night sky is clear and I can make out the constellations easily.

"Come on, you guys are best friends," Jared purses his lips, concern evident in his eyes. "I really think this might help smooth things out."

I personally don't think some time alone with Jensen and a bottle of beer will amount to anything good, but I'm tired of shutting Jared down when all he wants to do is help. So I gather a pair of stray life jackets, water bottles and whatever the fuck else Jared says we'll need and take off at a jog.

"Hey, Jensen." I gasp, falling into step beside him. "I'm coming too. If that's okay."

Jensen turns to look at me, surprise etched onto his features. He doesn't say anything, just raises the bottle to his lips. "So, um...I'm going to take a stab in the literal dark and assume that's alright," I venture opportunistically.

Still nothing, so I follow him like the beaten down pack mule I am, down the path to the lakeshore where the canoes are waiting, hoping Jared appreciates the hell out of this.

My body is tired because, let's face it, I'm not young anymore, and my arms are full and it's been a crazy taxing day, both physically and mentally. Couple my exhaustion with the darkness, and the result is a pretty clumsy Misha Collins.

"Shit," I mutter, stumbling forward as I trip over something - presumably a branch strewn across the path - and nearly fall on all fours.