yansadracan

Title: What Haunted Him He Buried

Author: YanzaDracan

Fandom: Kane RPS & CWRPS

Characters: Chris/Steve/Jensen

Word Count: 2,692
Rating: R Implied non-con, torture
Disclaimer: They’re not mine. IT’S FICTION - Something invented by the imagination or feigned; a useful illusion or pretense. Any goofs, gaffs, bending of facts, or mistakes are mine.

Summary: Jensen tries to deal with a buried portion of his past.

Author’s Note: In the same ‘verse as Friendship Rarely Survives The Knowing, What He Thought He Knew & What He Knew, What He Allowed and What They Craved They Pursued. When did this become a ‘verse? Prompted by song of the same name on Steve Carlson’s Days Behind CD, and witchy78’s need for h/c.

That faded Polaroid

Always annoyed me

When it fell out in my car

But I never took it out

Sometimes I’d just zone out

And wonder where you are today.

Oh, and I’m sure you’re doin’ well

I’m know you never tell

About the girl you used to be

Don’t worry Babydoll

I’ll keep it all

Between you and me.

Just like all the rest

Somehow I’m passing the test of time

But I’d say to stay on your side of town

And keep your crowd away from mine.

Cause you know I’m doing well

I’m sure you never tell

About the boy you used to see

Don’t worry I won’t sing

About everything

Between you and me.

...Between You & Me – Steve Carlson

It was the week from HELL. Jensen was exhausted. The only good thing, he was on hiatus so he didn't have to worry about splitting his time between his lovers and Supernatural. It was bad enough that he was splitting his time between Las Vegas and Portland.

For the first time since coming to LA he chose not to work, putting his personal life before his professional. The few personal appearances didn't count as work.

When Steve found out Jensen wasn't working, he started dragging him from pillar to post helping him with the CD he wanted to release in the early part of next year.

Their last trip to LA, they'd moved Jensen from his house to theirs, putting the big stuff into storage. Jensen's house was now rental property.

They'd flown from LA to Portland for KANE's show at Dante's then to Las Vegas. Now he was sitting at Steve's bedside at University Medical Center after an allergic reaction to a spider bite.

Jensen had teased Christian unmercifully when he found out about his spider phobia. They contracted an exterminator to spray the house monthly, even when they weren't in town. Instead of fumigating the house before they arrived, an employee decided it was a waste to spray an empty house, and had taken off a couple hours on the company clock.

Now he understood Chris' phobia. After his initial reaction to the spider bite, Steve scared another ten years off his life by having a reaction to the treatment for his reaction. They'd almost lost him. Jensen had been out of his mind with worry, but Steve refused to let him call Christian.

After a one-sided conversation with a monumentally enraged Jensen Ackles, heads rolled, money returned, and hospital bills covered to stave off possible lawsuits.

Steve was being released this morning the only evidence of his crisis was the bite mark on the still swollen cheek. Instead of going home to rest, they were going to the airport and flying to Portland. The argument in the cab to airport about telling Christian the truth entertained the cabbie to the arrivals drop-off.

"He's goin' be royally pissed." Steve pleaded.

"Don't care. I won't be in the middle of keeping secrets between us." Jensen stated mulishly.

"There'll be a lot of yelling, cussing, and foot stomping." Steve warned.

Green/gold eyes narrowed, jaw set stubbornly against the honeyed voice cajoling him.

"Never thought I'd see the day when you'd be more stubborn than Kane." Steve sighed in resignation.

"No secrets."

"Fine."

The rest of their trip was fairly quiet--Not because Steve held a grudge, but because he was too exhausted to be his usual self. Jensen didn't mind the silence once he realized the singer wasn't angry with him, and coaxed him to sleep.

Steve had been spot on when he said Christian would be royally pissed. Jensen felt like he'd survived an F5 tornado by the time Chris settle enough to drag an exhausted Steve and Jensen to their bedroom, and with Steve in the middle refused to let either man out of bed until the next morning.

At Dante's, Jensen kept a low profile, cap low, wearing his glasses instead of his contacts. They didn't need to put the fangirls on an internet rampage. After the sound check, he and Christian catered to Steve, who sat with ice pack on his swollen face, while a restless Kane prowled the room, strumming his guitar and singing softly.

Steve laid his head on his arms to hide his smile at their antics. Though he hated what they'd been through this past week, some days it was good to be the king.

About twenty minutes before the show the trio went down to the lounge. Tim and Aldis had arrived while they'd been upstairs. The two men got to picking at Christian, distracting him from hovering over Steve like a hen with one chick.

After the show, Jensen visited with Tim and Hodge while the band grabbed showers and fresh clothes. He was anxious to get home so Steve could rest. They were gathering guitars and amps when Eric came down the steps with an expensively dressed woman.

Everything stopped as they watched the pair approach. Christian and Jensen moved, putting themselves between the two and the band. They ignored Tim's snickering and waited for Eric to explain.

"Guys, this is Monica Reid-Westman. She's in charge of entertainment and getting area celebrities into the golf tournament for B.U.L.L. Session charity. The money they raise goes to help the area's children. Monica this is Christian Kane…"

"Ma'am." Chris nodded.

Eric continued through the group introducing everyone. None of them noticed the pole-axed expression on Jensen's face.

Jensen's mind was pulled back to the present when he heard Christian say his name.

"What're you volunteering me for, Kane?"

"Miz Westman was askin' if any of us played golf. Figgered you, me and Tim could play. Then they'd only need to find one more for a foursome."

Jensen agreed readily. It would seem out of character if he refused. He paid close attention to the rest of the conversation. KANE would be the entertainment at the banquet.

"When are we doing this? If it's after filming starts I'll have to clear it with my production company."

"It's scheduled for the second weekend in September, Mr. Ackles." Monica answered.

"Please…it's Jensen." He looked into eyes that reminded him of the ones he saw in the mirror every day.

"Jensen." She gave him a small smile. "I want to thank all of you for being so generous with your time." She turned to Eric. "I'll be contacting you with an itinerary."

She exchanged another look with Jensen before going back up the steps.

Jensen watched Monica Reid-Westman until she disappeared. His mind trying to drag him thirteen years into the past until Steve accidentally bumped him with his guitar case.

He stared out the window wishing he could join his bedmates in sleep. He fought to keep his body still so he didn't wake Steve or Christian. Ruthlessly he quashed any thoughts that strayed away from the present. The pre-dawn blush started to wake the world as he finally drifted into a fitful doze.

Two sets of blue eyes worriedly watched their deeply sleeping partner. They quietly shut the door and headed for the kitchen.

"He didn't sleep until almost daylight." Steve murmured into his coffee.

"He's worried. We almost lost you." Christian shivered at the thought.

He shook his head. "This is different. He was fine until Eric brought that Westman woman downstairs."

"I hadda do a double take. Dress Jenny in drag and they'd be twins." Chris shivered again. "Kinda hot, but kinda freaky."

"He's been on a lot of shows, think they know each other?"

"Naw. Where would Jen meet a Portland society diva?" Christian chuckled as he worked on breakfast. "He hangs out with redneck cowboys, vagabond gypsies, and other disreputable types."

"He can smooze the tuxedo set with the best of 'em." Steve looked around for his meds. "He can do that high brow shit 'til their all eatin' out of his hand."

Christian snatched the bottles away. "Not 'til ya eat somethin'."

Steve's comment was lost in the sounds coming from their bedroom. Chris was halfway there before Steve could react.

They found a sweat covered, trembling Jensen in the middle of the bed, head resting on his pulled up knees.

"Jenny?" Christian asked soothingly.

Unshed tears pooled in green eyes before several rapid blinks cleared them away. Shaking himself like a wet dog, he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

Chris and Steve took up residence on either side of the still panting man.

"Jen, what's up, babe?" Steve entwined his fingers with Jensen's.

"I'm fine." He turned to shake the older men off as he did the dream.

Not cooperating, Christian and Steve enveloped him. Warmth, concern, and love was all he felt. Allowing himself to bask in their comfort, he finally regained his mental balance.

"As great as this is," Jensen tried to wriggle free, "need to go."

"Go where?" Steve muttered.

"Bathroom." Jensen huffed.

Chris chuckled lightly.

"So glad when he's off the meds." Jensen muttered.

He tucked Steve's hair behind his ear then gave him a quick kiss.

"I've never known you to be quite so blond." He said over his shoulder.

Christian laughed at Steve's disgruntled expression. He opened his mouth to repudiate the blond comment, but snapped it closed causing Chris to laugh harder on his way back to the kitchen.

Jensen leaned against the bathroom door. He hadn't had a nightmare like that in years. He hoped it wasn't a preview of things to come.

There was no recurrence of the nightmare, no nightmare could stand against Christian and Steve's emotional and physical onslaught. Where Chris found that much energy after a twelve hour day on the Leverage set always amazed Jensen?

Steve took full advantage of Jensen's mother hen tendencies to cut a swath through the neighborhood shops restocking Chris' pantry before they flew out the next morning.

"Chris is coming to Vegas, Wednesday." Jensen reminded.

"I know. Quit whining. The bags aren't that heavy."

The woman behind the counter smiled at their dickering.

"Not whinin'. Don't need all this stuff for a couple days."

"You live on take-out." Steve admonished.

"Hey! I cook!" Jensen protested.

"You used to sometimes cook when you lived with Jared."

Steve cringed inwardly. Jensen had found his own place not long after Jared started dating Genevieve. Her jealousy of their relationship made Jensen uncomfortable.

"Not much use in cookin' for one."

Whatever Steve was going to say was lost as they arrived at the checkout.

Christian pushed the door open to, the smell of Sandy's Bolognese sauce. He found Steve in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on a pan of lasagna, but no sign of Jensen.

After a greeting that left both men panting and half sprawled over the counter, Christian killed the mood with one question.

"Where's Jenny?"

Steve flicked his eyes to the patio. Looking at Jensen then back at Steve he arched an eyebrow in question.

"I bumped one his sore spots." He turned back to the stove.

Chris crossed his arms over his chest.

"I was teasing him about how he only sometimes cooked when he lived with Jared."

"That one should be healed by now." Chris frowned.

"Not quite. I reminded him he's alone, and he hates cooking for just himself."

"So yer suckin' up with yer mama's Bolognese sauce?"

Steve blushed a deep red. A twinkle of mischief entered Christian's eyes as he started to laugh.

Curiosity pulled Jensen out of his funk and back inside. The lighthearted mood remained until Steve and Jensen left for the airport the next morning.

Eric called his manager, who in turn called Kripke about scheduling Jensen's filming around the B.U.L.L. Session charity weekend.

Jensen groaned when his manager informed him they were trying to snag Jared as their fourth for the golf tournament.

He'd never told the younger man about the change in his relationship with Christian and Steve. Jared would tell Genevieve who was one of the biggest gossips Jensen ever met, and he did not want his relationship spread over the world because someone couldn't keep their mouth shut. The people who needed to know knew and that was all the three of them cared. He'd talk it over with them when Chris got in town, Wednesday, and see what they thought.

Jensen was wading through his monthly paperwork from his agent and accountant when Steve went to bed, his meds still making him drowsy. Jensen was getting ready to join him when his phone rang.

The caller ID said 'Private', but Jensen answered anyway.

"Hello."

"Jensen?" A soft female voice asked.

"Who's this?" His tone got suspicious. He hoped some fangirl hadn't gotten his number. He hated the hassle of changing them.

There was a pause. "It's Monica."

The bottom dropped out of his stomach. "What do you want, Monty?" He asked quietly.

"I…was…I mean…you know…surprised when I saw you in Portland." She stammered.

"Yeah…well…shocked the hell outta me, too."

His mind's eye recalled how she always chewed her bottom lip when she was trying to gather her thoughts.

"Just spit out whatever it is you want to say, Monty, so we can end this mockery." Jensen spat into the phone.

"You're not going to say anything about…?"

"Have you lost your fuckin' mind!? Of course I'm not sayin' anything. Those men, Christian and Steve, are my life. You think I want them to know what I...what happened because we were too fuckin' naïve and trusting to know any better?"He hissed.

"I'm glad you found someone." She soothed. "After what happened I didn't think you ever would." He heard her sniffle. "I didn't think I ever would."

"Does he know?"

"Yes. I knew he'd run a background check to make sure I wasn't just some gold digger, so when it looked like it was getting serious I told him. No record of it appeared anywhere. His dad doesn't know."

Jensen wanted to laugh at her naiveté.

"I never told-anyone-ever. I kept files to protect myself. No one knows, except you, that I have them.

"You should tell them. If they love you half as much as Ryan and I love each other it will be fine." She encouraged.

"It's not the same for me. Besides, that naïve, trusting boy is dead and buried." Jensen snapped.

"What about your scars?" Monica asked.

"That hotel quack was good. Only the deepest ones scarred and you have to know where to look."

Jensen pulled his mind away from the phantom pain in his lower back.

"After this is over you keep on your side of Portland and I'll stay on mine-if I still have one." Jensen half muttered to himself.

"Jens-"

"No, Monty-Just no. Goodbye."

He heard her call his name as he cut her off.

He sat staring blindly toward the bedrooms knowing by the time this was over his perfect life of the past few months would lay in ruins. He could already taste the ashes on his tongue.

Hands and pain and blood and screams and blood and fire across his skin and HANDS! and NO! and SCREAMS!
He started a pot of coffee and showered in the guest bathroom. There was no way he was going back to sleep.
Steve gave him an odd look for being up so early, but kept his silence as he got his coffee.
"Glad that's the last of those pills. Hate how they knock me out. You were up awful early."
"Yeah. Had to finish off that paperwork so I can get it back to Angie."
"You oughta steal her from your agent."
Jensen chuckled. "I couldn't afford her. This way I get her services, but someone else foots the bill."
"Tightwad." Steve dropped a kiss on the back of his neck on the way past.
"Good thing one of us is." Jensen gave an ass cheek a pinch.
Steve stopped in the doorway. "Goin' to the studio with me?"
"Yeah, Darren wants me to watch the board while you two do the heavy lifting."
"We'll make a producer out of you, yet."
Jensen snorted. "Watchin' a computer screen and tweakin' a few knobs is a long way from knowing what I'm doin'.
"Don't sell yourself short, Jens." Steve went to get dressed.
Jensen's head jerked. He hadn't given any thought to Steve using that nick name until Monica reminded him of the past.
His phone buzzed a text message from his manager. Kripke ok'd charity. Jared is ur 4^th.
That woke him flat on his back, hands clenched in the sheets, sweat running in rivulets off his body. He jerked his head to the left. He breathed a sigh of relief that Steve had slept through his screams…maybe he hadn't actually screamed out loud. He slid out of bed, he had no desire to play twenty questions at four in the morning.