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@JensenAckles: ‘Supernatural’ Prequel ‘The Winchesters’ In Works At The CW From Jensen & Danneel Ackles

@Jarpad: Dude. Happy for you. Wish I heard about this some way other than Twitter. I’m excited to watch, but bummed that Sam Winchester had no involvement whatsoever.

@boysandballet: ...this has GOTTA be a bad joke hello @jarpad @JensenAckles this ain’t it sirs we’re freaking out

@Jarpad: No. It’s not. This is the first I’ve heard about it. I’m gutted.

@Jarpad: Hey world. Thank you for the love. Please PLEASE don’t send any hate or threats. I care deeply about everybody involved and would be in true misery if any of them were harmed or threatened.


There’s no way to explain this to the fans.

There’s also no going back, apparently.

“Fuck”, says Danneel, and her facial expression is not pretty.

Jensen feels bile rising in his throat. Digs his nails into the meat of his palm, tries to breathe, like he always taught himself (no therapy, nothing like that, thank you, just a game that begun somewhere in his teen years, a little exercise that helped him get through certain moments: one-two-three-imagine you are alone in this world and nothing matters anymore, breathe in, breathe out, one-two-three).

“What the fucking fuck was he thinking”.

“It’s Jared”, says Jensen, like it explains something. It does, actually.

“You need to sort this out”.

Her words may sound harsh, but Jensen knows she's on the verge of a panic attack. Not everything must be perfect, but some things do, and sometimes it’s dust on the farthest parts of the highest windows that suddenly needs to be gone, and sometimes it’s door locks that need to be checked in the middle of the night, and now - now it’s not like that, it’s actually about something real.

But Danneel’s not the one he has to deal with first.

“I’ll sort this out”, he says.

He leaves the living room, goes to the guest room, sits on the bed. Looks at his phone. Unlocks it several times, only for it to go back to screensaver again and again.

He should be mad. He is mad. But he’s also annoyingly worried, although worry is not the feeling he wants to feel right now.

He’s not worried for his business, he’s worried for that fucking jerk, which is...

“Fuck you”, he says, “screw you, asshole”, he says, “you moron, never thinking with your brain”, he says, and the last one doesn’t even make sense, but no one hears him anyway.

When he finally presses the button, Jared does not pick up.


He picks up on the fifth time.

“Ackles”, he says, like it’s nothing, but his voice gives everything away.

“Jared, what the fuck”, and that’s not at all what he was planning to say.

Jared, it seems like, has no problem with being mad.

“You tell me”, he sounds very closed-off now.

“For all these times you wrote shit on Twitter about airlines and mobile companies screwing you over - who would have thought one happy day I’ll be the one having the pleasure”, shit - shit, still not it.

“Really now”, and Jensen can’t remember the last time this tone was directed at him. Maybe never, actually. Cold. Distant. Dripping with sarcasm. Fake. All of it, fake. “Well maybe you shouldn’t have - screwed me over then”.

And suddenly all Jensen feels is tired.

“Jared”, he says. Something must have changed in his own voice, because Jared doesn’t respond. Jensen can hear him breathing, though.

“Do I really need to explain this to you?” he asks quietly.


“The show is... the stage it’s in, it’s as preliminary as it gets. We just got the green light for the first episode script draft. That’s it. And Jared. You know - you know, you knew all about it. We talked about it”.

“You”, Jared’s breath hitches. Jensen’s throat aches in sympathy. He can’t do anything about it - the sympathy. He wants to touch Jared, his shoulder, his knee - but he is not here. “You announce a fucking show about fucking Winchesters without saying - without mentioning…”

“Jared, have you checked your e-mails in the last few months”.

“No, you know I don’t have time for most of the crap that…”

“You have time - you’re just an unorganized little bitch, that leaves hundreds of messages unread, and...:”

“Yes”, says Jared, “yes, and you know it - you know it, and you still didn’t…”

“I still didn’t what”, explodes Jensen. Now he’s properly mad. “I can’t live your life for you, I can’t decide for you, when to pay attention and when not to, and if you yourself decide to - forget all we talked about my and Dee’s project - act like you’re the victim, go apeshit online, call the mighty warrior call for all the crazies… after you… after you sunk into all that Walker shit, being all busy and no thank you, Jensen, no replying to you, I’ll spend my free time with my kids, I’ll spend my free time with my wife, I’ll be MIA for almost a fucking year - and then - and then, Jared, you do this to me, to my thing? On fucking Twitter? What the hell have I done to you?

“What the hell have I done to you?”

“Are you even listening to yourself...”

“You’re supposed to be there for me”.

Jensen feels like he’s been thrown from the back of a horse. The ground hits you really quickly, and then you can’t breathe.

“I am”, he says, getting the words out from the throat that’s rapidly closing, “I always am, you know that. You just didn’t let me”.

Jared is silent.

“Tell me”, asks Jensen quietly, all the anger gone now. “What happened, really”.

A few moments pass, and it almost looks like Jared is not going to answer. But he does, although Jensen can barely hear him now.

“I don’t know”.

Jensen realizes he’s sitting in the most uncomfortable position imaginable, shoulders hunched, knees drawn together. He scoots further on the bed, tries to relax his muscles a bit.

“You knew about the show. You made it sound like you haven’t even heard about it”.

“I haven’t heard about the specifics”.

“Well, you didn’t want to listen”.

Jared is silent again for a moment.

“I can’t do this over the phone”.

“You don’t have a choice”, says Jensen.

There’s some rustling.

“I saw these promotional tweets and I felt like I was a nobody”, he finally says.

Jensen exhales.

“Jared, I tied your ties for you. I punched guys at bars for you. I fucking washed you when you’d throw up on yourself, shitfaced, and stoned, too. Do I need to…”, he stops and listens. “Are you crying?”


“Jared. Did you honestly forget?”

“What. That I threw up and you put me into that cold shower in my jeans and all?”

“No. That we’re adults, that we have obligations, NDAs, businesses to run? That this show might be my income for the next year or so?”

“I don’t know, Jensen. I don’t know. I just… you didn’t put enough effort, you know”.

Now this - hurts.

“Maybe you didn’t either”. I miss you, I missed you, he wants to say, but he can’t.


The silence stretches again. Jensen looks, without really seeing anything, at the few weird toys on the bookshelf. They are staring back at him blankly, as usual.

“You need to go on Twitter and…”

“Yeah, yeah”.

“I don’t want to hang up, but…”

“I gotta go”, says Jared, and hangs up himself.


@jarpad: @JensenAckles and I had a great talk, as we do often, and things are good. The show is early in the process with miles to go. We’ve travelled a lot of roads together, and sometimes those damn roads have bumps. Bumps don’t stop us. Once brothers, always brothers. #spnfamily


@JensenAckles: Love you @jarpad …Miss these talks. I forgot how much face time we always used to get. And I miss that too. I know you’re busy…as am I, but you’re still my brother. I miss you, pal.


It’s not enough to repair the damage completely, but it’s as much as the world would get, apparently.

“What’s with the “love you”?”

Danneel is vacuuming - again - and it’s difficult to hear her - or anything, really.

“Well”. Well - I do, he wants to say, but he doesn’t want to shout.

They don’t talk for three more days. Not with Danneel - with Jared. He finds himself hovering over the phone to at least text him a couple of times, but he has nothing to say. There’s still the issue with Robbie and the deleted tweet, but he can’t find it in himself to see whether it has been sorted out or not.

Then, Jared calls. Jensen’s one leg in the shower, drenched after a workout, it’s the most inconvenient time imaginable. He also has a plane to catch in four hours, to go back to the shoot, and he really wanted to spend those last few moments with the kids, especially JJ, since she’s been really moody about him leaving again. He really shouldn’t even pick up the phone.

He picks up on the first ring.


“The fans don’t really like it”.

He pauses, sits on the toilet, naked ass sticking to the closed lid immediately.

“The tweets that…”

“The show, Jensen. The concept. They don’t like it”.

He can hear that Jared is outside. There’s wind rustling and his footsteps sound a bit like someone is jumping on a giant rubber duck, but it’s probably just little stones crunching. There’s this funny sound effect on the hikes sometimes - yeah - Jensen doesn’t know what to say, except that Jared is kind of right.

“They don’t, do they”.

“What are you gonna do about it?”

“Don’t you feel a bit happy?”, he can’t help himself.

“Jensen, I…” the footsteps stop. “Please. Dude”.

“We’ll just have to wait and see”.

“Can I help?”

“We’ll think of something”.

Jared starts walking again.

“Why do you sound so weird?”

“In the bathroom”.


“Naked, by the way”.

“Double ew”.

“Yeah, yeah”, Jensen scratches his knee absentmindedly, “you weren’t complaining the last time”.

“I was complaining”.

“Come to think of it - you’re right. As always”.

“I’m always right?”

“You’re always complaining”.

“Jensen”, he waits for Jared to continue, and it’s weird, they make so much pauses in their talks now, it’s nothing like real life. Screw phones. Screw pandemics. Screw time. “Are we ever gonna get back to normal?”

He knows exactly what Jared means. It’s not about the incident. It’s about all of it, what has ended on the last day on the set of Supernatural.

He wishes he had an answer for him.

“It’s just. We never see each other anymore. Is it possible to remain... you know. For us, it was always different, or maybe not? Who knows?”

“When I hear you say that”, says Jensen quietly, “it makes me want to punch something. Real hard. Does this count?”

“It should have to”.

I love you, Jensen wants to say, but that’s not what they do.

“Let’s be normal people and plan something”, he says instead. “Plan - I mean, to meet up, have a proper weekend or something, and...”

“Gen will tan my hide”.

“She probably already did”.


Jensen tries to imagine what Jared looks like, hiking, moving along the windy trail, waving at the bypassers. Does he have a beard at the moment? Is he wearing his stupig leggings under his stupid shorts?

Jensen’s heart aches.

“Please check your messages sometimes”.

“I want barbecue”, says Jared firmly.

He’s not the one who should be groveling. Or making barbecues. But he’ll make a hundred if he needs to.

“Okay”, he says, “okay”.