Work Text:
For a professional criminal, Jensen Ackles was really bad at covering his tracks.
Jared had only been given the job three days earlier. JD Morgan had hired him to get rid of Ackles, his former business partner who'd run away unexpectedly. According to Morgan, Ackles had lost his nerve and taken off with Morgan's money and a particularly incriminating selection of files. Worried that Ackles was going to hand his whole operation over to the cops in exchange for immunity, Morgan had hired Weatherly to take care of the problem but when Ackles stayed off the map and Weatherly turned up dead, Morgan had called in the big guns.
More specifically, he'd called in Jared and his Ruger MK II.
Despite taking out one of the best in the business, Ackles hadn't been that hard to locate. Jared had followed the trails from the three bus tickets he'd bought and after two fruitless searches, he'd tracked him all the way up to a motel in Vermont. That fact that a wanted man was hiding out in Vermont of all places made Jared raise his eyebrows but Ackles had already proven himself to be unpredictable and Jared knew better than to take chances.
Standing in the shadows of the motel parking lot, Jared watched Ackles climb out of his car and glance around nervously before heading over to where Jared was hidden beside the stairs. He matched the picture Jared had been given -- tall, lean, not built like a fighter -- but Jared was surprised to see that he'd made no attempt to change his hair color or hide his face.
It was almost like he wanted to get caught, and Jared was going to be gracious enough to do just that.
Ackles came closer, looking exhausted and lost in thought as he crossed the parking lot without checking the cars or the windows or the security cameras or any of the dozens of other things Jared had examined as a matter of course. It was sloppy work but Jared had no qualms about taking advantage of the situation to finish the job.
He flexed his hands in his gloves as Ackles passed him and counted off his steps. Ackles moved off the lot and reached out to push the door to the stairs open, putting himself neatly in the blindspot of the cameras as he fumbled in his pocket for his keys.
Jared struck.
Ackles didn't even get chance to scream when Jared wrapped his arm around his neck and hauled him backwards. He kicked and struggled but Jared had the height and strength advantage and it didn't take long before Ackles went limp and unconscious in his arms.
Jared seriously had no idea how an idiot like Ackles managed to take down someone as experienced as Weatherly.
It was easy from there. Making sure to stay out of sight, he dumped Ackles in the trunk of his car, bound his wrists and ankles and covered his mouth with tape, and headed off into the night to find somewhere to dispose of his target.
Ackles woke up a few minutes into the drive.
Jared listened to the thump of Ackles' feet and fists against the reinforced trunk and to the muffled screams that filtered through as he turned off the headlights and wound his way further down the deserted country track.
The screaming stopped when he pulled to a halt and killed the engine, and Jared hesitated. Maybe Ackles was smarter than he'd given him credit for -- he could have a hidden weapon somewhere and be ready to attack the second Jared opened the trunk to get him out.
Extra wary of his captive, Jared was calmed by the weight of his gun in his hand as he climbed out of the car and went round to open the trunk. The ground was damp and muddy under his feet, the trees still dripping with rain, and Jared sighed. He really didn't enjoy having to march targets across muddy fields before being able to kill them.
He raised his gun as he unlocked the trunk with his left hand before pulling it open in one swift move. Ackles kicked out with his bound ankles, just catching Jared on the left side of his stomach before he could step back out of the way, and Jared gave an impatient wince. "Son of a bitch."
The kick had left Ackles open and vulnerable, legs half out of the trunk, and Jared reached in to catch him by the wrists and haul him the rest of the way out, disregarding his struggles. Ackles dropped heavily to the ground, his protests muffled by the gag, and Jared crouched down to cut the tape around his ankles. He wasn't carrying him out to the dump site if he didn't have to.
Ackles' kick was painfully predictable this time and Jared sidestepped it neatly. "Nice try."
He'd been doing this long enough to learn the best ways to ensure compliance and it was with practiced ease that he stood astride Ackles' torso, grabbed him by the collar and smacked him across the face with the butt of the gun.
Ackles cried out as his head snapped to the side but he didn't lose consciousness as he laid there, dazed and blinking on the grass. He did let out another shout of protest when Jared hauled him up to his feet but that was quickly reduced to a whimper by the press of the gun to his ribs and the cool order, "Shut the fuck up and start walking, Ackles."
They fell into a rhythm as they walked away from the narrow track and up into the trees that cloaked the hillside. Rain fell in scattered patches from the canopy of trees that hid them from the dusky night sky and Jared surveyed the area lit by the beam of his flashlight with approval as they got deeper and deeper into the forest. Even buried in a shallow grave, it was unlikely anyone would find Ackles out here for a long, long time.
The trees rustled pleasantly in the wind, punctuated by the sound of Ackles' hitching breaths and quiet sobs, and Jared rolled his eyes. If the day ever came when someone had him in Ackles' position, he liked to think he would meet his end with a little more professional pride.
"C'mon, Ackles," he muttered, stepping over a fallen log. "You didn't really expect to get away with this, did you? You had to know Morgan would send another guy after you eventually."
Ackles tried to speak through his gag but, realizing that Jared wasn't about to take it off anytime soon, settled for a tiny shrug.
Jared chuckled. He'd heard enough about Morgan to know that optimism was never the best tactic when he was involved.
They pressed on through the trees with Ackles' hands staying bound behind his back and Jared's gun staying up against his spine as he prodded him forward. Mud squelched under Jared's boots every few steps and he ran a hand through his damp hair, making a mental note to remember to cover their tracks on his way back down to the car.
He paused when they reached a couple of large rocks nestled in between the trees and tugged Ackles to a halt too as he scanned the area with his flashlight for any indication that someone would be able to see them.
All the woods gave him were shadows and Jared smiled. He clicked the beam off and tucked the flashlight into his jacket pocket but then fell to the ground with a grunt as something slammed into his chest. "What-"
His head smacked against a tree root while the mud instantly began to soak into his pants but Jared pulled himself to his feet as quickly as he could when he saw Ackles dart past him in the darkness. "Motherfucker."
He was relieved to find no telltale stickiness of blood when he touched the back of his head but that didn't help his annoyance any as he felt around for his gun and flashlight, and then shone the light through the trees in search of Ackles.
If Jared had been in Ackles' position, he would've at least been sure to knock his captor out for good when he was downed, and he wondered yet again how Ackles had been slick enough to get the drop on Weatherly.
The ground was uneven and slippery and Ackles hadn't gotten far, especially with his hands bound behind his back. Jared moved smoothly through the trees, turning his flashlight off and letting the shafts of moonlight guide him as he pursued Ackles back down the slope.
His head started to ache from where he'd smacked it against the ground and so it was with cruel satisfaction that he caught Ackles roughly by the arm and landed a hard enough punch to drop him to his knees in the mud. Ackles fought like a wildcat, writhing and yelling behind the gag as he tried to squirm free, and Jared pinned him down on his back, putting his weight on Ackles' hips as he tried uselessly to buck him off.
It was almost entertaining to see him struggle in the mud between his legs and Jared took a second to study Ackles' face. He seemed softer than the idea of him that Jared had formed from his pictures, with big wide eyes and a nervous crease in his brow, but Jared had been right about one thing: he wasn't a fighter.
Ackles soon went limp under him, sagging into the mud and staring up at the sky as his chest rose and fell in quick breaths. Defeat was painted all over him and although Jared was reluctantly impressed with his eleventh-hour attempt at resistance, the unpleasantly wet weight of the mud on his clothes left him pleased that Ackles was now the one flat on his back in the dirt.
"What the fuck did you think you were doing?" he asked honestly, amazed that a guy who'd partnered with Morgan for so many years could be so inept. "Did you really think you were going to be able to outrun me?"
He patted his chest mockingly. "Some tips for you, Ackles: you're tied up and I'm not. You can't see a goddamn thing," --he shone his flashlight in Ackles' eyes-- "and I can. You're totally fucking unarmed," --he stroked the gun down Ackles' cheek to see him sob and shiver-- "and I'm not."
Ackles closed his eyes in terror, fighting to breath past his panic, and Jared couldn't resist.
He ripped the tape off his mouth and pocketed it carefully as Ackles winced then took deeper breaths. He stared up at Jared in confusion as he licked his dry lips, and Jared resolutely did not think about getting head from one of his targets. Even if said target was one of the prettiest-looking guys he'd ever been paid to kill.
"Please," Ackles begged. "Please don't-"
Jared gave him a lazy slap across the face, splattering his cheek with more mud. "Save it," he said. "You just made me chase you through the woods in the middle of the night; I really don't have any happy, merciful feelings towards you right now."
Ackles swallowed hard, keeping his eyes on Jared's gun with what Jared considered a satisfactory level of fear. "W-What-"
"I got a question for you," Jared interrupted. "And if I don't ask it now, it's gonna bug me the whole way back home. How the fuck did a schmuck like you kill Weatherly?"
Ackles frowned. "I don't- Who's Weatherly?"
"The guy who was sent to kill you," Jared said. "The guy you left in a pool of his own blood in your motel room."
Ackles' eyes went wide enough that Jared could see white all around his irises. "H-He's dead?"
Jared arched an eyebrow. "Yeah. That's what usually happens when you crack someone's skull open hard enough to leave bits of their brain stuck to the carpet."
Ackles looked like he was going to throw up. Jared edged back a little. The mud stains were bad enough without adding vomit in there too.
"Oh god." Ackles wasn't even looking at him now, just staring into space as he murmured, "Oh my god." His gaze darted back up and he pleaded, "I didn't mean to, I swear. It was an accident -- he came at me and I just swung at him and ran. I didn't know- Oh god."
Jared had seen his fair share of pleas of innocence over the years but this was the first time he'd actually had to break it to the target that they'd killed someone.
It was less fun than he would've hoped.
"You didn't know," he repeated dumbly. Maybe it would make more sense the more he heard it. "You took out one of the best hired guns in the lower 48. How can you not know that?"
"He was going to kill me," Ackles said, rushed and scared. "I- I just swung, I didn't think-" He sucked in a breath and sounded slightly less like he was about to have a panic attack when he said, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please…"
Jared failed to hold back his laugh. "You're sorry? Hey, man, don't apologize. I know tons of guys who would've liked to see the dude six feet under, present company not excluded."
Ackles' eyes strayed back to the gun. "So you're not here to kill me because of that?"
"Nope." Jared waved the gun with a smile. "This comes straight from Morgan."
Ackles gulped down a sob at the name and Jared shook his head. "Gotta say, for one of Morgan's guys, you're pretty twitchy around guns. What, did he just bring you in to kill guys by accident? Jensen Ackles, the inadvertent serial-killer."
Ackles shook his head and Jared watched blood trickle out of the wound that the pistol-whipping had left on his cheek. "No, no, I never killed anyone, I swear." He paused. "Well, except the guy in the motel room, I guess." He took a deep breath. "Oh god."
"Hey." Jared rested his hand on his shoulder. "Deep breaths, Ackles. If you're gonna spin me some bullshit excuse, I'd like it to be intelligible at least. You're saying you never killed anyone in all those years you worked for Morgan?"
"I never worked for Morgan!" Ackles said, still breathing hard. "I dated him."
Jared blinked. "Run that by me again?"
"I dated him," Ackles repeated nervously. "For five years. I thought he worked in banking. I- He seemed like a good, regular guy -- I liked him, we went out, we moved in together-" He took a shaky breath and looked up at Jared. "Then two weeks ago I saw him put a bullet in a woman's head."
"You didn't know?" Jared asked skeptically. "You dated the guy for five years and you didn't notice he was running a criminal network for a day job?"
Ackles bit his lip and shook his head. "I didn't know, I swear. I would never have stayed if I knew."
"What, you saw him shoot a girl so you stole his files and his money then ran?"
Ackles shook his head even more vehemently. "I never stole anything! I waited until he was out at work then I got as far away from him as I could. I thought if I didn't go to the police he'd let me go. Just forget I ever existed, you know?"
The hopeful idea of Morgan forgetting that a murder witness existed was hilarious and pitiful at the same time, and Jared sat back on his heels, keeping Ackles in place on the ground as he processed this new information.
Why was nothing in his life ever simple? Maybe he should've just gone to work for the IRS like his mom had wanted him to.
"Please," Ackles begged softly, cutting through Jared's thoughts, "please just let me go. I'll stay hidden and I won't tell anyone about any of this. I don't wanna die."
Jared laughed colorlessly. "What do you think this is, Snow White? I let you run away to live happily ever after in the forest with seven creepy dwarfs? No, the only way this ends is with someone dying and I really don't want that someone to be me."
The gun was solid and heavy in his hand. Jared thought about how easy it would be to just slide it up under Ackles' chin while he was lying there, trapped and defenceless, and put a bullet in his brain. Morgan would be give him one hell of a bonus and Jared would be able to go on living his life without needing to look over his shoulder any more than usual.
Of course then there was his conscience to deal with.
As consciences went, Jared's was pretty robust but as his finger rested against the trigger, he found himself having trouble pulling it. Sure, Ackles had killed a guy but technically that was self-defence. Also, that guy was Weatherly. In ordinary circumstances, Jared would've been baking him a fucking cake rather than holding a gun to his head.
He slipped the gun back into its holster with a sigh.
"Congratulations, Ackles. Looks like it's your lucky day."
Ackles blinked in disbelief when Jared stood up, swiping unhelpfully at the mud on his jeans. "You're not going to kill me?"
"Turns out I have some morals after all," Jared muttered. This was not a happy discovery for him. "Get up."
Ackles managed to get himself to a sitting position but standing was a step too far with his hands bound so Jared dragged him the rest of the way up, trying to avoid touching the mud he was caked in. Turning him around, he sliced the tape off his wrists and held his breath for a second in foolish anticipation of this being some elaborate ploy to get out of the restraints.
That worry was quashed when Ackles turned back to him with an uncertain smile on his mud-smeared face. "Thank you."
Catching sight of the wound on his cheek, Jared felt kind of bad about smacking him across the face with his gun earlier. He then felt kind of annoyed about feeling bad. Jesus, remorse sucked.
"Don't thank me yet," he murmured. Flicking his flashlight on, he headed back down the slope with Ackles following close behind like a lost puppy. "Fuck, this is a stupid plan. This is a really, really stupid plan."
"What plan?"
"The not-killing-you plan," Jared snapped. "It's not like I can go back to Morgan and be like, 'Hey, funny story, I decided not to kill that guy you paid me to kill. Sorry!' That would not go down well."
"He might understand," Ackles said hopefully. (And naively. So very naively.) "I could tell him that I won't go to the cops and then he might let me go."
"I'm starting to see how you never figured out he was a psycho," Jared said under his breath. "You're like a My Little Pony in human form."
Ackles' brow creased. "Thank you?"
Jared despaired.
"Let me make this real clear for you, Jensen," he said, coming to a halt and holding Ackles by the shoulders. "If you go back to Morgan, he'll kill you. If I go back to Morgan without proof that you're dead, he'll kill me. If he finds out that I didn't kill you, he'll kill both of us. Basically there are a lot of opportunities for death in our future."
Ackles' face was pale when he asked, "So what happens now? A-Are you sticking with the not-killing-me plan? Because I like that plan."
In spite of their situation, Jared smirked. "I'm not going to kill you, Ackles."
"Oh." Ackles didn't actually faint in relief but it looked like a close-run thing. "Good. That's good."
"I'm going to kill Morgan."
Ackles' wide-eyed look of shock was a pretty accurate reflection of Jared's own state of mind upon coming to this conclusion but as far as reality was concerned, it was the only real option left on the table.
"You're going to kill him?" Ackles asked, stunned. "But you said he ran a criminal network. He's powerful -- he hires people to kill other people! How are you-"
"How about you let me worry about the details?" Jared said bluntly. "Unless you wanna try your signature tactic of bludgeoning him to death with a novelty table lamp."
Ackles flinched at that and Jared sighed inwardly at the pang of guilt that hit him. Apparently making jokes about Weatherly's death was now frowned upon by his suddenly overactive morals.
"Look," he said, trying to be slightly nicer. Yes, everyone made mistakes but abducting, pistol-whipping and nearly executing an innocent guy maybe merited a little more courtesy. "You just stay out of the way, okay? I'll take you back to your motel and you can get a job and earn some money and build a new life here for yourself while I go put a bullet in your ex then carry on with my day-job. Deal?"
"No deal," Ackles said firmly and Jared did a double-take.
"Is that a joke or…?"
"I mean it," Ackles said. "I can't just stay here. What if you die and Jeff sends someone else after me?"
"Then you can flash them your big doe-eyes and convince them to do crazy shit like trying to take out a crazy asshole like JD Morgan," Jared deadpanned before heading back down the hill. "Also try to avoid sentences which include "if you die". They're not soothing."
He screeched to a stop again a second later when Ackles ran a couple of steps ahead of him and jumped across to block his path. "Take me with you."
Jared tried hard not to laugh in his face. It mostly came out as a snort. "You want me to do what now?"
"Take me with you," Ackles said firmly. "You let me go so it's my turn to help you."
"You're going to help me kill someone?"
Ackles nodded. "He tried to kill me first," he pointed out. "I don't want to live with a threat like that hanging over my head." He paused, looking down at his hands. "I saw him kill a girl two weeks ago. Just take out a gun and shoot her in the head." He shuddered. "He shouldn't be allowed to get away with that."
Admirable as the sentiments were, Jared was still stuck on the idea of Jensen 'I spent five years dating a psychotic criminal and didn't notice' Ackles helping him with anything.
He said as much. "You know you're not exactly cut out for this, right? In this scenario, I'm Batman and you're Elmo."
"I can do it," Ackles said, sounding more confident than he had all night. Not having a gun pointed at his head may have helped with that. "Just give me a chance. Please?"
The doe-eyes were out in force again and Jared's shoulders slumped. Tonight was clearly a night of terrible, terrible decisions.
"Fine," he relented with a possibly melodramatic sigh. He glanced down at Ackles' mud-stained clothes. "But you're changing your pants before you get in my car."
A pleased yet disbelieving smile spread across Ackles' face and Jared couldn't resist clapping him on the shoulder before heading back down to the car, this time with more of a purpose in mind.
A crazy, borderline-suicidal purpose but at this point Jared would take anything.
"All right, Ackles," he said with a grim smile, "let's go put our lives in jeopardy like the dumbasses we are."