![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: What Do I Do Now? – Not A Joke Chap 4
Author: YanzaDracan
Fandom: RPS
Pairing: Chris/Steve/Jensen
Rating: FRM
Summary: Cleaning up the mess.
http://yanzadracan.livejournal.com/11415.html
http://yanzadracan.livejournal.com/12800.html
http://yanzadracan.livejournal.com/13313.html
http://yanzadracan.livejournal.com/14786.html
A year later he sat alone in a small house in Nashville, Tennessee, staring at the thin platinum band on his left hand. He was packing to move back to LA to start a new series call Leverage wondering how everything had gotten so fucked up that he had broken his promise to Jensen Ackles’s mother, and how was he going to fix it.
Chapter 4
Fear kept him from dialing the seven numbers that would put him in contact with one or the other of his lovers.
Fear kept him from asking his mama about them when he stopped on his way to LA, but it didn’t stop her from saying her piece.
She let him have a day of peace before she found him on the porch swing after everyone had gone to bed. Now all bets were off.
“Christian why are you up?” She asked with her arms crossed over her chest.
His answer was a shrug while thinking that she must where he got that pose from. He took a pull off his beer, and set the swing to swaying once again.
“They came to visit while they were at the Ackles’ first part of Jen’s hiatus.” She sat on the swing next to her boy and took his hand.
“They miss you and they’re angry. They don’t understand and you won’t talk to them.” She scolded.
“Oh mama, I’ve messed this up so bad.” His voice choked with emotion. “I knew what those big record label people were like. Steve begged me when they started Smoking Lion to sign with him, publish my music through our own company, but I thought I knew the game enough to hold my own. To have a major label deal plus Jenny and Steve. Thought I was stubborn enough and mean enough. After all I’m ‘Christian f**king Kane’. Everyone knows you don’t mess with me and mine.”
His humor was bitter and self-depreciating. “I guess Nashville didn’t get the memo. You know the really screwed up part, mama? It was all for nothing. Everything I did, everyone I hurt—all for nothing.”
“Ah son.” She pulled him close and comforted him as she hadn’t since he was small. It made her want to weep to see her strong, stubborn boy brought so low.
“You forgot the most important thing, boy. You didn’t keep your heart with you. You were like Moses in the desert trying to find a place for yourself, but you let temptation blind you and went into battle without your sword and shield.”
“Do the Ackles hate me?” His voice sounded small against her shoulder.
“No one hates you, Christian. Upset ‘cause her boys’ hurtin’, disappointed ‘cause you broke your word, but there’s no hate here.”
They sat quiet for a bit longer before Chris finally stirred.
“I’m sorry for keepin’ you up, mama. Why don’t you go on in to bed?”
“You comin’?” She tugged his hand.
He started to protest, but the expression on his mama’s face had him headed indoors without thought.
“I’ll make some calls in the mornin’ see what my other boys are up to.” She volunteered.
He pulled her into a hug. “Thank you, mama.”
“You’re welcome. Now git to bed.” She gave him a swat to prompt him.
After talking to Steve and Jensen’s mothers, she found the boys were in Las Vegas where Steve was putting the finishing touches on his new CD.
The convention tour that CW had set up for Jensen and Jared hadn’t left time for doing other projects, so when they’d returned from Australia and Europe, Jen had sequestered himself with Steve and they hid their misery from the world.
With only two months until hiatus ended for Jensen, and Chris going to be in Chicago filming for the next three weeks, there wouldn’t be much time for him to set things to rights.
As soon as TNT had him settled in Chicago, he beat his fears into submission and dialed Steve’s number. Chris cringed at the tentativeness in the voice that answered.
“Chris?”
“Yeah it’s me. They just got us settled where we’re stayin’ in Chicago…and…and I wanted to call and let you know where I am.” Damn his nervous stutter.
“Is it okay it I put you on speaker? Jen’s here, too.”
“That’s fine. Hey, darlin’.”
“Chris.” Jensen’s voice was choked. “Steve--I—you—let me know.”
Chris’ heart fell when he heard a door slam.
“Steve?”
“I’m sorry, Chris. You and I have done this dance before, but Jen’s never—well—it’s been hard. The show exhausted him, what with Dean dying and going to hell, and Kim’s not been well.” Steve’s rambling gave Chris an idea of how hard it’d been for the musician, too.
“Shit, Steve. I’m sorry. Gawd I fucked up big time. Is there still a chance I can fix this?” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Please tell me I can fix this.”
A heavy sigh came over the phone. “I tried to keep the faith, Chris. I explained over and over that this was just part of being in love with your moody ass, but I don’t know if any of it got through.”
“You don’t even want to know about Jared. Take your attitude and add seven inches and forty pounds. That boy is so pissed at you. It was great for the show. There wasn’t a tourniquet big enough to stop all the character bleed from Jensen to Dean and back.”
“I’ve spent so much time in Canada I’m on a first name basis with the customs agents.” Like a valve on a pressure cooker, once he started, Steve couldn’t seem to stop until it was all out.
“That’s why I called. I want to come home, or you come here or I’ll meet you somewhere …something, just...I gotta fix this. I tried and tried, and I don’t know when it all went out of control, and I got stupid—I’m an idiot and I’m sorry. Can I please come to you or something?” Chris pleaded.
“I’ll talk to him, Chris. I’ll have to call you back. This may take some doing.” Steve stated flatly.
“Anything. Just let me know.”
“Christian, you have to get a handle on this thing. We can’t do this again. I can’t do this again. I’ll call you one way or the other. Oh and Chris?”
“Yeah.”
“In spite of everything, we do still love you.” Steve’s voice sounded exhausted.
“I love you guys, too.” Chris put everything into that statement as he ended the call.
Chris was wound so tight by the time the phone rang he actually jumped out of the chair where he was sprawled.
“Steve?”
“It’s Jensen. Steve’s asleep. It sorta all came to a head a little while ago.” Jensen’s voice was choked and watery.
“It’s been so hard, Chris.” He whispered.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I never meant for things to be like this. But I got so afraid mama had to kick my ass so I could pull my head out of it.” Tears started in Chris’ eyes when he heard them in Jen’s. “Is Steve okay?”
“We’re all a bunch of girls. After he got off the phone, we both had a good cry before deciding how many ways to kick your stupid ass.” Jen’s chuckle was still shakey.
“What did you decide?” Chris held his breath.
“You really hurt me—us.”
Chris closed his eyes. He could picture Jensen rubbing his temple, running a hand down his face. As the silence lengthened, a tear escaped and ran down his cheek.
“You’re not coming.” He was so choked up he could barely push the words out.
“We’re coming, but Steve can’t get away until Tuesday. Can you text us where you’re staying?”
He let his breath out so fast it made him light headed. “Sure. I’ll give the desk your names to get keys.”
“Chris?”
“Yeah, babe.”
“We have to fix this. I don’t want to consider the alternative.”
Chris closed his eyes and took a breath. “We will, Jenny.”
“Chris?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t call me Jenny.”
“I love you, Jenny.”
“I love you, too.”
By Tuesday, Chris had shot most of his scenes for the week. It meant he would have a couple days when he would be on call, but didn’t have to report to set. He was happy and terrified at the same time.
The first thing he sees when he enters his suite are duffels and guitar cases. The sight of the guitars causes a soft smile to cross his face. The next thing he sees is a CD on the bed. Stripped Down. A full body shot of Steve on the cover, but unlike his other CD’s he’s covered from head to toe, hiding from the camera. It made him smile to see Jensen’s name on a couple of the songs. At the same time he cringed when he read the titles.
A whiff of cigarette smoke catches his attention and he sees movement on the balcony. *Figures.* He stops and drinks in the sight of the two most important people in his life. They’re thinner. There are new lines he knows were caused by stress and worry. They hold hands like they’re holding each other together—maybe they are.
He took a breath, and steeled himself for what was came next. He stepped onto the balcony and stopped. Both men were sitting with their eyes closed, the afternoon sun burnishing the men gold. He must have made a sound because the next thing he knew he was plastered against the wall with the breath crushed out of his chest.
When the bodies came to rest, clothes were strewn from the balcony to the bed. The tangle on the bed was all arms, legs and wildly mussed hair as sweat cooled and hearts slowed. From the bottom of the pile, Chris stated blandly.
“I kinda thought we’d talk first, but this is good.”
“We’re probably better off for talking now. Less likely to kick your ass--though what we did to your ass was good.” Steve mumbled against the sculpted chest.
“Been working out?” Jensen rubbed his face on the other side his Chris’ chest.
“Had time on my hands, and a show to get ready to shoot.”
That broke the ice for the long overdue conversation about the past six months. They eventually showered, called room service, and talked some more. Steve and Chris exchanged a look when they noticed Jensen moving his food around instead of eating.
“Jenny?” Chris called him on purpose to get the man out of his own head.
“Uh?”
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Chris growled.
“Was it because of me?” The husky voice was quiet.
“WHAT?” They both shouted together.
“Was what because of you?” Steve asked quietly.
“This. You guys never split up like this until me.”
Chris started to chuckle. That mischievous, ornery chuckle that made people smile when they heard it. Then Steve started to laugh, too.
“Oh, Jenny. This our third time down this trail. Steve and I have each had a case of the dumb ass at one time or another. We’ve been together since ’98. In eleven years it ain’t gonna be all roses and sunshine.”
“Oh—OH! Okay.”
The smile that lit the handsome face was worth every word that Chris had had to dredge up to make things right with his lovers.
Later that night as the three were once again tangled together, Chris drifted in that place between sleep and wakefulness.
Six months ago fear of losing a dream had made him deny himself and the men he loved. Fear of those same men’s reactions kept him isolated from them. Fear of permanently losing what he loved above all else had pushed him to vanquish all the other fears.
Now with that fear vanquished they could continue on their journey together. It might not be the dreams they had each had as individuals, but it would be the dreams that they all had together.
The End
