Chapter One

The room was probably supposed to be homey, but it had obviously been designed by someone that had never been inside a real home. Whitewashed walls, a non-descript chest of drawers backed up against one wall next to a closet, a table with two chairs by the window and mass produced art on the wall.

"Want me to get something else?" Steve asked, nodding towards the painting on one of the walls without looking at the man in the hospital bed that dominated the room.

"No, it's fine."

Steve looked out the window that faced a lush green park with little dirt roads crisscrossing it; there was even a pond with a little bridge over it, how quaint. He could see a nurse pushing a patient in a wheelchair on one of the roads and he was surprised she didn't wear an apron and one of those little hats with her white starched dress.

"It's pretty nice here," he remarked, his eyes skating over the man in the bed quickly before flittering to the side, landing on the guitar case in one corner.

"It's okay. Better than a hospital at any rate… not quite as good as home, though."

Steve flinched. "We talked about this, Jared…"

"I know… I just… I know."

Jared sighed and Steve turned to look at him for the first time since he got there. He still looked like the same old Jared, a little less tanned and a few pounds lighter, but he was still himself and Steve had to remind himself of that. Jared had always been so full of energy. All their lives he had been running circles around Steve, talking a mile a minute, always on the move, until the accident.

The first few months after the crash had been hell, maybe more for Steve than for Jared. Seeing his baby brother's pale face in a hospital bed, hearing the doctors' grim predictions, it had broken his heart into tiny little pieces. At the time Jared had been too fucked up on pain killers to really get it, but once it sunk in, Steve's heart had been broken all over again and he'd swore to himself that he would do anything in his power to have Jared back on his feet.

Two years and four major surgeries later, it looked like Jared actually had a shot at it. He was still recovering from the last surgery that had used new technology to try and fix the fucked up nerves, and it seemed like it might have been working. He was slowly regaining feeling in his legs and even though he might never walk unhindered, there was at least a real possibility that he would be able to walk again.

Steve pulled one of the chairs up to the bed and sat down, putting one hand over Jared's on the blanket. Jared grinned and wriggled his fingers.

"What's this big bro? Getting all touchy feely in your old age?"

"It's just… It feels like I haven't seen you in forever," Steve said, leaning back and crossing his ankles.

Jared smiled at him. "It's been a while. I missed you."

"I've been busy… I…"

"You don't have to explain," Jared said softly. "I know how much you are working."

"Yeah," Steve said, looking away again and shifting slightly.

"Your back bothering you again?"

"No," Steve lied, looking up at Jared and smiling. "It's good, really."

"Liar," Jared said fondly, a cloud passing over his eyes.

"No, it's good. Really. It was just this stunt I did today that went wrong… a bit of a miscalculation from the co-ordinator."

"Jesus Christ, Steve. Could you not repeat my mistakes? Seriously, you want us to move a second bed in here for you? Cause at the rate you are going, you're heading straight for it."

"No, Jared, I'm careful... It was just…"

"Just what, Steve? A mistake? A job you shouldn't have touched with a ten-foot pole two years ago before I ended up like this? Seriously…"

"I don't want to hear it, okay? I don't need you handing my ass to me, as well, I get that from too many people as it is."

"For a reason," Jared said stubbornly.

"Sometimes I wonder if you even want to walk again," Steve said, getting up from the chair and pacing the room. "Or have you forgotten why I'm doing this?"

"Right now I'm thinking of performing miracles so I can get up there and smack some sense into you."

Steve smiled a little, glancing at Jared who was glaring at him.

"It's so unfair," Jared said, throwing his hands up in the air, and Steve found himself wondering if he had always talked so much with his hands, or if it was a way to compensate.

"I know," Steve answered, looking down on his dusty boots and feeling like a traitor. He should be in that bed, not his vibrant, damned near perfect little brother.

"That's so not what I meant," Jared said, his disapproval palpable. "It's just that every time things get difficult, people get up and move away where I can't fucking reach them."

Steve looked up with a startled laugh. He was seeing more and more of the old Jared these days, maybe Jared was coping after all. "Sorry," he mumbled, making sure to sound chastised and returned to the bed so that Jared could smack the back of his head.

Jared grumbled a little, but he was grinning and Steve relaxed a little. They'd had this argument so many times he dreamed about it. They were locked in a situation where neither of them had any real options. Stunt work was the only thing that Steve was good at, how could he not be when their parents had been teaching them the trade since they were old enough to walk, but it wasn't a passion.

It paid the bills, though, and Steve was way over his head in debts with all of Jared's operations and the convalescence home, not to mention the fact that he still had to keep himself with a place to sleep, a car and food. Jared hated knowing Steve was taking stupid risks and any damned job just to keep him in this place, getting the best physiotherapy there was, but he also wanted to walk again, so he couldn't really make Steve quit.

"Would you play me something?" Jared asked, nodding towards the guitar. "It's been ages since I heard you play."

Steve followed his eyes to the guitar case, shaking his head. "Not today… I have to get going soon. The kick off party for 100 Proof is tonight and since I got an invite I figured I better go, but honestly, I think it's just the regular industry type party. I'll come by tomorrow, though, and play you every song your little heart desires."

Jared nodded, licking his lips. "So… You think Jensen'll be there?"

"He better," Steve blurted out before he could censor himself. "Or I'll kick his sorry ass from here to Alabama."

Jared smiled but there was an edge to it. "Uh… Would you mind… I… Would you tell him to call? He changed his phone number, I bet those rabid fangirls of his got hold of it again, and it's been a while since I heard from him."

"Yeah… Sure. I'll tell him that."

He watched the way Jared's long fingers twined around the edge of the blanket and felt like the worst brother ever. Not only was he the one still up and walking, but he'd stolen Jared's best friend as well. Every late night beer-drinking, movie-watching session he'd had with Jensen in the last few months suddenly felt like the worst kind of betrayal. Jesus Christ, it had been two months since Jensen changed his phone numbers and Jared was only just bringing it up now?

He wished it was easier to bring the subject up with either of them, but talking to one about the other was eerily like sticking his hand into a pit of pissed off snakes, and he wasn't as much of a glutton for self-punishment as he seemed to be.

"I got his new number here if you want it?" he said, trying to make things better.

Jared just gave him a look that told Steve that he certainly wasn't helping. "Just tell him to call," he said. "If he doesn't, then at least I know."

Steve sighed, reaching out and grabbing one of Jared's fidgeting hands, squeezing it in his own. "I hate that things are like this between the two of you," he said sincerely.

"Don't worry about it," Jared said, struggling to get his hand back. "At least that means he has more time to hang out with you."

Steve flinched, letting Jared's hand go. "I… I… Yeah. I better get going."

He made a move to stand up, but Jared reached out and stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. "Jesus, I'm sorry, Steve. That was… way out of line. I'm glad you two are hanging out. God knows it's time that someone filled that void in your life… I just wish… I just wished he cared more."

"He does care," Steve said immediately, deciding not to even brush the other part of Jared's statement. There was no fucking void in his life. Just because he'd fucked things up irrevocably with his best friend two years ago, that didn't mean there was this big empty hole in his heart that needed filling.

"He has the funniest way of showing it," Jared said tiredly, relaxing his grip on Steve's shoulder. "You better go and get ready. Tell me all about the party and you know… tomorrow. Deal?"

You know… Steve shuddered, he still wasn't sure if accepting the role as Jensen's stunt double was the best or worst thing he'd ever done. Working with Jensen would be fun and Jeff Morgan would be the stunt co-ordinator, so he knew there would be no unnecessary risks involved, heck, even the pay was great. There was just that thing about you know that threw him. He hadn't seen Chris in two years, other than as a shadow on the TV, and he wasn't sure he was ready to see him now, either.

Steve wasn't the type of guy to have regrets. Whatever happened, happened, and he was pretty sure it did so for a reason, but there was one thing in his life he wished he'd done differently, and that was the break up with Chris. Usually Steve was the one that clung to a relationship long after it was dead and buried, but that one time he had shot down something that was still in its prime and the edges of that wound were still ragged.

He'd ruined his relationship with his best friend, lover and fucking soul mate with a few chosen words and he would never stop wondering how things would have turned out if he hadn't been too chicken to hold on.

"See you tomorrow," he said, giving Jared one last smile as he got up from the chair.

"Yeah, tomorrow," Jared answered, his eyes still distant.

Steve almost laughed as he walked out of the convalescence home, his boots clicking unnaturally loudly against the polished stone floors. The Padalecki/Carlson brothers and their best friends, a never-ending source of fucked up amusement. There must be something fundamentally wrong with their gene pool.

Read Chapter Two of Fourteen of Jeyhawk's Swim Your Seas and Climb Your Hills