When The Bough Breaks

Chapter Thirteen

-Misha's POV-

The drive to the market was tranquil. Autumn's sweet breath chills the already busy town as people rush along the streets. It's my favorite time of year, not too hot and not too cold, perfect weather for my leisurely drive.

Leaves rained down throughout the park by my house. Warm blends of reds and orange tumble from a weary branch, twisting and fluttering down to the giggling children below. Winds like these never cease to amaze me. They carried promises of warm winter fires and drinking hot cocoa under the safety of a heavy fleece. In just a few months, the trees will stand bare in the frozen air, the discarded leaves covered in a shimmering blanket of snow.

I drive the next couple of miles in silence, enjoying the cool crisp breeze flowing through my open window. The gravel crunches beneath my tires as I pull into an available parking space. It's quite the walk, but I don't mind the exercise.

The nose tingling aroma of spices mingled with the sweet smell of the fresh produce as I enter the busy store. Lovers stroll hand in hand, casually browsing each aisle while housewives hustle around frantically. A young child wailed for his mother's attention somewhere in the back, but otherwise it was peaceful. This was the Vancouver Market, a place which was always drowning in a sea of people, and today was no different.

I'm stopped occasionally when I'm recognized by fans. I sign a few autographs, take a couple of pictures, and answer numerous questions about the upcoming season. Of course I don't disclose the Destiel storyline because the writers and executives would kill me, and honestly I love the element of surprise.

Turning down the hygiene aisle, I pick up some items Jensen might need during his stay at La casa de Collins. I grab his favorite body wash, deorderant, shampoo, and a spare toothbrush. I know Jensen didn't have time to pack any necessities, and I'm happy to help.

The liquor aisle is packed with endless bottles in various sizes. It's a little overwhelming at first, but I manage to find his brands of whiskey, vodka and tequila. I grab a half rack of Coors Light and I'm ready to check out. Sure, I may be buying too much alcohol, but I still have no idea what happened to him, so too much is always better than not enough.

Jensen usually tells me everything down to every little detail, so the fact that he hasn't told me anything yet scares the living shit out of me. I make it my goal to get him happy and healthy again, no matter what it takes.

***

"Honey, I'm home!" I call out from my foyer, arms full of overflowing grocery bags. The smile fades from my face when I see Jensen slumped over on the floor, visibly shaking and hyperventilating as he sobs tirelessly.

I drop the bags with a loud clank and rush over to his side,"Jensen, what happened? Please talk to me. You're scaring me."

"Dani" is all he can say through his rushed breaths.

"Dani? What about her? She's not hurt is she?"

He doesn't answer me.

He just keeps crying. He's a beautiful, blubbering, shaking mess laying on the ground. My heart tears in two at the sight of this usually overly masculine man who is crying on my floor like a girl who got dumped on prom night.

I scoop him up in my arms and walk us over to the couch. He straddles my lap with his head tightly tucked into the crook of my neck, sobbing and mumbling incoherently as I attempt to calm him down. "Shh Jen. It's okay, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."