Give Crowns and Pounds and Guineas But Not Your Heart Away
Going to Hell 'verse! Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Jim Beaver, Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki (pre-slash)
In which Jeffrey tells a nineteen-year-old Jensen how he met Jared's mother Jim.


It was obvious to Jeffrey early that Jensen Ackles loved his son.

He'd always liked Jensen; even before he knew they had a secret in common, there was something he was fond of about the boy. As a child, Jensen had been shy and quiet, although he'd gained confidence after he realized the truth about himself, but no matter how popular he was, he clearly never entirely fit in. Jeffrey related to all of it--something like a kindred spirit (as Jared might say) in Jensen.

Since Jared came, Jensen visited less. Of course, Jared was convinced he hated Jensen, which certainly didn't help. Jeffrey didn't think he'd be able to keep it up. Jared was too nice a boy, and even if he might never feel attraction to Jensen like Jensen felt to him, he was sure they'd be good friends. Jared was just too stubborn and impetuous by half, and Jeffrey didn't think there was anything anyone could do to speed it up.

Still, he missed Jensen dropping by after school on thin pretenses or taking a shortcut that didn't save him any time to pass through Green Gables, so he was delighted when he ran into Jensen outside the Manners store one fine spring day.

"Afternoon, Jensen," he said, with a small smirk.

"Mr. Morgan," he said. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"You never stop by anymore," said Jeffrey. "And you know you can call me Jeffrey, boy."

Jensen laughed. "I know, but I won't. And that boy of yours doesn't like me much."

Jeffrey smiled. "That boy of mine doesn't know what he likes." He slanted a look Jensen's way, sure and kind. "You seem awful fond of him, though."

Jensen groaned. "I'm not that obvious, am I?"

"I know the signs myself, you know."

Jensen blushed. "But Jim likes you. Jared doesn't--he won't even talk to me."

"I know it can't be exactly fun for you right now, but give him time. I think he'll realize the two of you could be good friends."

Jensen smiled sadly. "Friends would be nice." He looked a little shyly at Jeffrey. "Does he know about you and Jim?"

"Haven't told him yet. It seems like we need to wait." He shrugged. "I'm surprised he doesn't know already."

Jensen smiled, a fond, besottled little smile. "He's smart, but not always--he doesn't figure things out fast."

"Don't hold it against him," said Jeffrey. "It took Jim a while too."

Jensen looked surprised. "It did? What happened?"

"With us?"

Jensen snorted. "The boy I'm in love with won't speak to me because I made one mistake a year ago. I could use a happy story."

Jeffrey laughed. "I supposed you could at that."

*

When Jeffrey Dean Morgan was born, Jim Beaver wasn't even a year old, and lived next door. Jeffrey couldn't remember becoming friends with him. They'd been friends so long it was just one of those things. Everyone knew Jeffrey Morgan and Jim Beaver would be found together more than found apart.

Jeffrey only ever felt comfortable with Jim. Jim was the only one who didn't care how much his father drank, or that he didn't go to church with Jeffrey and his mother. He was the one who knew how sad Jeffrey's mother was, and the only person in the world who loved Green Gables like Jeffrey loved it. His father, whose home it had been, didn't care much about anything anymore.

"What makes someone like him?" Jeffrey asked Jim when he was ten. "Why do people become like my father?"

"Maybe God made him that way."

"Don't get why God would make anyone so mean. What's God going to do with a bunch of mean people?"

"Punish 'em later," Jim suggested.

"He could just make everyone good," said Jeffrey, "and then not have to punish anyone, and everyone could have a big party in heaven."

"Does it make you feel better that your father's going to Hell when he dies? That he's gonna suffer?" Jim asked curiously.

"No, not really." He shrugged. "I'd like him to just love me now."

"I love you," said Jim.

It made something warm blossom in his chest, but he didn't understand it yet. It just made him happy.

"I know," said Jeffrey. "I love you too."

"And your mother loves you," said Jim. "Two people in the world's more than orphans get."

Jeffrey had to smile at that. "Guess that's right."

And then, when Jeffrey was twelve, his mother passed away. His father became more miserable, and Jeffrey spent more and more time with Jim.

That was when he noticed.

It was little things, things he'd never noticed before. His eyes caught on Jim's jawline, the breadth of his shoulders, the white of his teeth when he smiled.

He didn't realize what it meant until he was fourteen and Jim started talking about girls, and it sounded so familiar.

It sounded like how he thought of Jim.

"I think I'm wrong," he told Jim one afternoon.

"Bout what?" asked Jim.

"I mean--I'm wrong. Like my father's wrong."

"Your father's an alcoholic bastard, Jeffrey," said Jim. Jim had recently decided swearing was cool. Jeffrey wasn't sold yet.

"But you can go to Hell for a lot of things."

Jim gave him a long, slow, appraising look. "Why don't you just tell me what's bothering you, kid."

Jeffrey sighed. "I don't--I'm not real interested in girls, Jim."

"You'll get there. Don't get jealous I'm more mature than you."

"No, you don't--I'm interested in," he swallowed. "I've been thinking about boys."

"Boys?"

"I tried to stop, I know it's not--"

Jim shrugged. "That don't mean you're like your father, Jeffrey."

"But it's a sin."

"Can't be as bad a sin as being a crappy husband and father. If you go to hell just because you don't like girls, God's not doing a good job."

"If my father's a bad guy just because God felt like it, that ain't a good job either."

"Either way, don't worry about it. Shouldn't be a big deal. Just don't tell other people. They ain't as smart as me."

Jeffrey laughed.

"Anyone you got your eye on?" asked Jim.

"Nah," said Jeffrey. He wasn't ready for that yet.

Jim made him press the point when they were seventeen. Jim started courting Donna Collins, and Jeffrey couldn't stand to watch it.

"I'm going to go to college."

"College?" asked Jim. "What do you need college for?"

"Learn things," said Jeffrey. "Get a profession. Don't want to be my father when I grow up, no direction."

"Leaving Avonlea?"

"Ain't doing any good here."

Jim regarded him. "What am I gonna do without you?"

"Marry Donna. Have kids."

"Thought you liked Donna. You aren't jealous, are you? You want her?"

Jeffrey snorted. "Jesus, Jim. Of course I don't want her."

It took a minute for both of them to realize what he'd said.

"You don't want her," Jim repeated slowly. "But you--"

"Nothing," muttered Jeffrey. "Don't worry."

"You should have said something, you bastard," said Jim. But he didn't sound angry.

That was all Jeffrey could think, the sum of his world--he didn't sound angry.

"Jesus, Jeffrey," he continued. "Could have at least mentioned."

"Didn't want to make a big deal," said Jeffrey.

"Yeah, that's not a big deal at all."

"So I'll just go to college, and you can get married, and by the time I get back, it'll be--"

"Nah," said Jim, and then his fingers were on Jeffrey's jaw and they were kissing.

"You should stick around," said Jim, some time later.

"Reckon I could," said Jeffrey.

*

Jensen was wide-eyed, shocked.

"What?" asked Jeffrey.

"Jim was gonna marry my mom?"

Jeffrey scratched the back of his neck. "They never quite got that far, I was just scared. But--they were headin' that way, yeah. Think that's why she was so angry when you wanted to work for me. Jim breaking off the courtship never sat right with her."

"What did he tell her?"

"Now, I don't know, exactly," Jeffrey admitted. "He never would tell me. But you know Jim, he's not exactly a tactful man."

Jensen laughed.

"I know it ain't fun," said Jeffrey quietly. "I wish I could tell you something you can do, but there's nothing except waiting."

"I'd wait forever," Jensen admitted.

Jeffrey smiled. It was strange, wanting Jensen and Jared both to be happy. Of course, it would be easiest if they could be happy together, but it was bracing to think that someday, Jared might have to choose between making himself happy and making Jensen happy. That Jared might never make that choice at all, because he might never give up hating Jensen.

"It's good to see you, Jensen."

"You too, Mr. Morgan."

"I come about this time every week," said Jeffrey casually.

Jensen laughed. "Well, Mr. Morgan, I'll keep that in mind."