Underneath the Oak Tree -- Chapter Fifteen

[lotrspnfangirl]

October 11th, 1970
Somerset, Vermont

“Mackenzie,” Jensen sighed, reaching up to wipe his arm across his forehead and turning around to give his sister a stern look. Mackenzie straightened up, placing her right hand flat on her swollen belly and gave him a sheepish smile. “I’m going to make you go inside,” he warned, shaking his head as her eyes widened.

“Jensen! I can’t stand it any longer. I don’t want to talk about it anymore, okay? I would much rather be out here with you.”

Jensen closed his eyes for a moment and nodded, stepping backwards to lean against the wheel of the combine. He’d been out in the field all morning, finishing up harvesting the last cornfield so the cattle had feed over the winter, and Mackenzie had been determined to follow after him, despite her swollen ankles. He’d watched her nearly trip over the flattened stalks and he’d spent more of his time worrying about where she was in the field than paying attention to the corn stalks ahead of him.

He looked at her then and found himself –not for the first time— impressed at everything that made up his sister. She had her hair plaited to the side, knew she’d gotten up with the rising of the sun to help their grandmother with breakfast for the family, and gotten the boys ready for a trip with Gerry and Albert into the city for supplies.

The only sign that told him she was still grieving, albeit internally, were the wide, dark shadows decorating the pale skin beneath her bright, green eyes. Silently, Jensen held out his hand and a smile flashed her gratitude before she gripped his hand and let herself be pulled to his side. She tucked herself close to him, her pregnant belly pressed against his flat stomach as her head fell to rest upon his chest. He held her tightly, rubbing his hand slowly up and down her back and found himself releasing a relieved breath when her shoulders finally dropped in surrender and she began to tremble as her sobs were swallowed by his thick shirts.

They stayed like that, linked together, until Mackenzie had no more tears to cry and Jensen could feel the wet patch from her tears making his shirt stick against the skin of his chest. He squeezed her shoulders in silent reassurance and reached into his back pocket, handing over a handkerchief without a word.

“Now, I don’t want you on the ground anymore, okay? So if you’re going to be out here with me…” he trailed off and pushed away from the machine, motioning up to the steps with one hand invitingly before giving her a pointed look.

“Thank you, Jensen,” Mackenzie whispered, folding the damp handkerchief carefully between her fingers before tucking it into her own pocket. Jensen knew she wasn’t thanking him for the hankie, knew she was thanking him for his companionship and, most importantly, his understanding silence.

“I’ve got your back, Mack,” Jensen whispered in return, pushing against the small of her back to lead her to the tractor. She reached for the handgrip and after a second of swaying on the first step, she climbed into the cab and slid to the side, giving Jensen the room he needed to climb up and take control of the combine.

“I’m glad I have you, Jensen.” Mackenzie’s voice was soft, barely heard over the motor and the sound of the blades and they sat side by side in silence as Jensen finished the field.

December 14th, 1970
Somerset, Vermont

Jensen rocked slowly, his arm curled around the bundle in his arms as he tipped the bottle once more and watched as the infant sucked the nipple into her mouth, drinking greedily. Jensen stared into her face, the sounds of her sucking filling the emptiness of the room.

He wondered if she would look like Mackenzie or if she would favor Lee. Right now, her eyes were bright blue and she was just as bald as her brothers had been when they were born. He pushed his toes against the floor, making the chair rock them both as she finished off the bottle. When the last of the milk was gone he leaned forward to place the empty bottle onto the floor and lifted the baby up against his shoulder.

“Shhh…” he whispered, rocking and patting her back gently. She fidgeted against him, legs squirming inside her sleep sack, and he let his eyes fall closed and focused all of his attention on her.

Her tiny body shook with her burp, and Jensen stilled his hand on her back, rubbing small circles there instead. Slowly, he lowered her from his shoulder and looked back down at her face. She looked so small, innocent and peaceful… one tiny hand had come free from the blanket she was wrapped in and was curled into a fist against her face.

She had no idea.

Jensen felt his heart swell with the emotions that were finally breaking through. She had no idea how harsh this life already was for her. She had no idea what she was missing, no idea how the last twelve longest days of his life had also been the first twelve days of her own nightmare. She had no idea… and that was the cruelest thing of all.

“Mr. Ackles?” Jensen shot to his feet, his entire body trembling in fear as he approached the doctor.

“Mackenzie? The baby?” he asked, nearly tripping over his own feet as he stumbled forward. The man gave him a small smile and reached for his arm, squeezing it gently.

“Let’s go sit down.”

Dread washed through Jensen and he felt all of the blood drain from his face. It felt like the doctor had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head and there was very little in the world that could get Jensen to move his feet. He pulled his arm back from the doctor’s grasp and felt himself shaking his head.

“How is Mackenzie? How is the baby?” he repeated.

“Jensen?” His grandfather stepped up behind him, placing a warm, steadying hand on his shoulder and it was much more comforting than the doctor’s had been. But still, it wasn’t enough. He needed to see his sister. They’d been sitting in the kitchen, preparing sandwiches for the kids for lunch when Mackenzie’s water broke. They had been expecting it, but that didn’t stop Jensen from taking a second to stare at his sister, unsure of what to do next until she was shoving him back and telling him to get the bag and she would meet him at the truck.

It had taken him fifteen minutes checked for the bag, asked their grandparents to watch the kids, rechecked the bag, told Gerry he would have to take over the feeding that evening, found the keys and then checked for the bag just one more time before he joined Mackenzie at the truck. Just fifteen minutes and his sister, who had spent the morning excited and talking to her boys about how their baby brother or sister would be here any day now, was sobbing hysterically, doubled over with her arms wrapped around her stomach.

“Mackenzie?” Jensen ripped the door open and froze as he looked down at his sister’s hand, slick and red. “Mackenzie!”

“Jensen!” Mackenzie sobbed, clenching her fists. “Hospital, Jensen! Now!”

Jensen tossed the bag into the back of the truck before scrambling inside and slamming the door shut. He started the engine and roared out of the driveway. Mackenzie cried the entire way, whispering frantically to her stomach, and Jensen fought back the bile rising to his throat as he pushed the gas pedal as far as it could go to the floor.

Peeling into the hospital emergency lane, the brakes screeched as they came to a rushed stop. Frantic, Jensen gratefully saw nurses hurriedly pushing a gurney to meet them.

“We’ll take care of her.”

“Sir, you need to let go of her so we can take care of her. Please, Sir. She’s in good hands.”

He paced frantically near the emergency desk, worriedly watching as they moved Mack out of his line of sight. He could hear the excited babbling of the medical personnel but was unable to understand the meaning of it all.

The minutes dragged into hours interrupted only by a litany of empty words and platitudes….

“Mr. Ackles? We’ve taken your sister into surgery… The baby is in distress and we haven’t been able to find the source of the bleeding…”

“Mr. Ackles, may we call anyone for you?”

“Mr. Ackles, may we get you some coffee or anything to drink?”

“Mr. Ackles, we’ll let you know as soon as we know anything more...”

“Mr. Ackles? Let’s go sit down...”

Jensen clung to the baby in his arms, a sob ripping through his chest, tearing him wide open.

“We couldn’t stop the bleeding…”

Just like in the hospital, the tears were beyond his control. They rolled hot down his cheeks, wetting his chest and the baby’s blanket, slipping between the contours of his lips and filling his mouth with the taste of salt.

“We did everything we could…”

But it wasn’t enough. Everything they could wasn’t near damn enough. Everything they could left Jensen feeling empty, drowning in this new life that had been tossed onto his lap.

“It is a condition called placenta previa and essentially what that means is the placenta in your sister’s womb was covering the entrance to the cervix…”

It didn’t matter then what it meant, just like it didn’t matter now. Jensen didn’t care what had taken his sister from him, only that something had. Something had ripped his beautiful baby sister’s life from her chest and left behind her cold and lifeless body.

Mackenzie was gone and Jensen knew that the medical terminology for what happened didn’t matter, because medicine and science had nothing to do with what happened to her. It was entirely Jensen’s fault. Another sob ripped from Jensen’s throat and he leaned forward in the chair, stilling it’s movements as a wave of nausea rolled through his stomach.

“You are listed as the next of kin for Kaleb Michael Seymour, Cameron Roy Seymour, and the newborn…”

Jensen’s own thoughts assaulted him. He remembered everything. The relief he had felt when he’d escaped Austin and his parents, despite the fact he’d left Mackenzie behind when he fled to the farm. The anger and pride he’d felt when his family had backed him against his father’s assault after the wedding, even though it was supposed to be Mackenzie’s day to shine. The jealousy he’d felt when Mackenzie had told him she was once again pregnant, and Jensen knew that he and Jared would never have that joy for their own. The elation he’d felt when the officer that had come to the door had spoken Lee’s name and not Jared’s.

Jensen was selfish. And he was certain it had been his selfishness and his thoughts that had somehow driven his sister’s life from her body. Wasn’t it only months before that he had been envious of Mackenzie and Lee’s newfound joy at adding to their family? And now he had three more children for him and Jared to take care of, three children who his selfishness had hurt and destroyed by ripping their parents away in the blink of an eye. It was more than Jensen deserved, and he was guilty, selfish, disgusting.

The mournful sound that escaped him was nothing close to resembling a sound a human should make, and it masked the sound of the door pushing open. Suddenly, his grandmother was at his feet, kneeling on the carpet. Her tear-filled eyes were shining in the candlelight as she whispered, just barely audible, “Oh, Jensen…”

She reached forward, stroking his cheek and he shivered, feeling sick that someone was offering him comfort when he was the cause of all of this. Then, she reached for the baby.

“No!” Jensen yelled, ripping back away from her and clinging to the child more tightly. The baby let out a sharp cry, and guilt immediately flooded Jensen and he began to cry harder, meeting his grandmother’s eyes in the dark room. “You can’t take her, you can’t.”

It was selfish, again, but Jensen refused to give up his grip on the child, the only connection he had left to Mackenzie. He cried for her, the child who would never get to know the beauty of her mother’s spirit or smile, he cried for Kaleb and Cameron who had known it and now had to live with the pain of it being ripped out of their young lives. He cried for Jenna and their grandparents, for Jared and for Lee’s family. He even cried for his own parents and for Josh.

When Martha’s arms wrapped around his body and she rocked him, Jensen let her. He allowed himself to lean into her warmth and let his cries disappear into her shoulder. And in her arms, Jensen cried for himself.

December 25th, 1970
Tân An, Vietnam

Jared exhaled slowly, sinking down beside Chad in their battered tent and handing him a roughly wrapped package.

“Merry Christmas, man,” Jared smiled, pressing it into Chad’s hands and then a similar roughly wrapped package was pushed into his.

“You too.” Chad nodded and ripped the paper off his gift, laughing when a new pack of cigarettes fell out onto his lap. “Jay-man!”

“I’ve been saving the cigs from my MREs for almost a month now, you better appreciate it,” Jared laughed, bumping shoulders with his friend before turning his attention to his gift. He pulled away the old shoe-string Chad had tied the package with and handed it back, laughing as Chad bent down to return it to his boot. There were two large chocolate bars inside and Jared instantly felt his heart swell as he looked up and met Chad’s eyes.

“You and your fucking sweet tooth,” Chad mumbled, but the edges of his ears turned pink.

“Thank you,” Jared said softly, ripping the corner of one bar open and breaking the chocolate in half. He handed Chad his portion and bit into the piece in his hand. Together, they ate the chocolate in silence, listening to the men outside of their tent milling about and talking around the small campfire Jared had allowed them to build tonight.

Chad silently handed him a cigarette once the chocolate bar was gone and Jared leaned forward, letting the tip catch under the match Chad was holding out.

“You think they’re all thinking about us tonight?” Chad asked after a moment, breaking the silence as he leaned down so he was sprawled across his cot, one arm tucked under his head. Jared tossed a look over his shoulder, watching as Chad sucked in a deep drag of his cigarette and released the smoke slowly. “I mean, do you think they miss us more today than like, yesterday?”

“I don’t know,” Jared shrugged, laying down on his side so he could face his friend, letting the end of the cigarette dangle from his lips as he adjusted his gun at his hip. “I hope not… I know it’s not true, but I wish they wouldn’t miss us at all, you know?” Jared gave a small laugh and shook his head, heat suddenly building behind his eyes. “Missing someone this much sucks,” he whispered and Chad nodded slowly, eyes trained on a spot on the canvas roof.

“At least you have someone waiting back home.”

“You’ll find someone, Murray,” Jared replied, waiting for Chad to look over and meet his eyes. He gave him a small nod, “You will. Once you get home, you’ll be a handsome war veteran and you won’t be able to keep all the girls off of you.”

Chad smiled at that, flicking his cigarette ash into the Mason jar they had on the foot locker between their cots. Then, he cleared his throat and looked back up to the roof. “He’s really lucky, you know.”

Jared blinked, confused as he studied Chad’s face, waiting for him to continue. Chad’s eyes however, were purposefully not looking anywhere near Jared and instead of the warmth and calm the rush of nicotine had given him, cold spread throughout his body as realization dawned.

“He who?” he whispered and Chad licked his lower lip, biting on it for a moment before leaning his head over and meeting Jared’s eyes.

“Jen.”

Jared felt his stomach knot up and he tore his eyes away, flipping onto his back, hands clutching at the sides of his cot. He could feel his heart thumping erratically in his throat, a hot and heavy pulse that made his head spin. The shifting of the cot beside him had him jumping, eyes flying over to watch as Chad sat up again and leaned forward.

“Jared…” Jared swallowed hard, waited. “I won’t tell anyone. I wouldn’t do that to you. And I mean it, he’s lucky and from what you’ve said… so are you. Just… thought you should know, that I’ve got your back, buddy. I always will...”

Jared let out a shaky breath, and nodded once, heart still beating wildly in his chest. Chad knows, Chad knows about Jensen. Chad has the power to destroy everything. Jared pushed himself up into a sitting position, sitting directly across from Chad now and nodded again.

“Thank you,” Jared whispered and Chad clapped his hands together, causing Jared to jump once, and reached for the cigarettes again.

“Think we can get through these all before New Year's?” Chad tossed the pack over and Jared smiled, snatching it out of the air. He slipped one out, surprised at how light he suddenly felt; Chad had the power, true, but Jared knew that he was sincere, hadn’t doubted a word that had come out of his friend’s mouth, and for once had someone he could be himself with that wasn’t family or Jensen himself.

“I would be impressed if there were any left by the morning,” Jared replied, tossing the pack back and leaning forward for the match.

“Eh, you only live once,” Chad shrugged, smiling as he tucked the cig between his lips.

“Thank you,” Jared said again, softly, and he wasn’t even sure if Chad had heard him. They resumed their silence, smoking and relaxing before it was their turn to take over guard duty.

January 10th, 1971
Somerset, Vermont

Jensen walked back towards the house, kicking off the snow that was caked onto his boots in an methodical, practiced way as he stepped up onto the porch. Every morning was the same; wake up, kiss Jenna’s head, Kaleb’s, Cameron’s. Eat the eggs, bacon and toast his grandmother put before him, drain a cup of hot black coffee. Then he would gather the baby from her crib, get her dressed and hand her off to either Sherri or Martha before grabbing his coat and his boots and heading outside to milk the cows.

Letters from Jared had been few and far between, whatever mission he was out on was not allowing him the time he needed to write, or not providing him with a place to mail any letters, and the one or two he’d gotten had only managed to make Jensen feel cold, guilty.

Entering the small back hall he slipped out of his boots and hung up his jacket, knowing that there would be a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen, his mug already full and waiting, and he would be expected to go over the reports with his grandfather and Gerry before making a plan for the rest of the day. Jensen hesitated at the door, the chill from the winter air outside feeling more comforting than the heat that came rolling out the open kitchen door. Sighing, Jensen stepped inside and pulled the back door shut behind him, sealing himself inside.

It was quiet and Jensen felt a small twinge of curiosity as he moved forward into the kitchen. He checked his watch. He’d finished the milking early, but not that early, and he’d seen both Gerry and Albert head back into the house before him.

“I don’t know what to do.” Jensen froze as he heard his grandmother’s quiet voice coming from the kitchen. “He barely eats, he barely talks, not even Jenna has gotten through to him…”

“He needs time, Martha,” Albert replied, voice rough and tired. Jensen felt his heartbeat pick up as he realized he was the subject of their conversation.

“Albert… How much time does he need? I understand, I do, we are all heartbroken about Mackenzie and all of us are missing Jared. But Albert… he has four children in his care now, one of which he hasn’t even named yet.”

Jensen squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath before stomping forward in his stocking feet to let them know he was on his way into the kitchen. They stopped talking, both of his grandparents turning to look at him.

“Cows are done,” he murmured, reaching for the mug of coffee and pulling it towards him. Martha nodded at him, giving him a sad, small smile and Albert came around the island, clapping his hand over Jensen’s tense shoulder.

“Alright, why don’t you go and see the kids? Relax for a bit while I get the records out. Gerry went into town for a while anyways with Sherri.”

Jensen nodded, taking his coffee mug and knew that his grandfather was just getting him out of the kitchen so he could finish his conversation with his wife. Jensen didn’t care, was glad to accept the way out as long as it meant he wasn’t going to be pulled into the conversation himself, and he took the stairs two at a time until he reached the landing before Jenna’s bedroom.

The door was cracked and he stepped forward, peering through the gap to see all four of the kids sitting on the floor. Jenna was leaning back against the footboard of her bed with her legs splayed wide in a ‘v’, a bundle of blankets containing the baby nestled between them. She was slowly stroking and tickling the baby’s feet, smiling when the baby cooed happily and kicked her tiny legs. Kaleb and Cameron were sitting on either side of Jenna, staring down at their baby sister with sad looks on their faces.

Just as Jensen was about to push open the door, his daughter spoke.

“It won’t be long now.” Jensen stopped, hand just inches away from the frame. “My Papa is going to be home really soon. Pretty much as soon as the snow melts, Grammy said. And when Papa is home? He’ll make everything better.”

Cameron sniffled, pressing his cheeks against his knees which were drawn up to his chest and shrugged his shoulders.

“How do you know?” Kaleb asked, reaching out and pressing a finger into his sister’s tiny hand. “How do you know that everything’s going to be better?”

“Because my Papa will make it so,” Jenna replied, looking up to meet Kaleb’s eyes and then Cameron’s. “Papa will come and make Daddy happy again, and then he’ll make sure we’re all happy too.”

“Will he be mad that we’re here?” Cameron’s voice was muffled against his legs and Jensen felt his heart squeeze at the question.

“No, of course not. Papa always said he has enough love for everyone and he’s going to love that you guys are here! Leigh Ann too!”

“Do you think he’ll let us keep her name?”

Jenna shrugged her shoulders and leaned forward, kissing the baby’s feet. “It’s her name, isn’t it?”

Jensen exhaled sharply, guilt and shame suddenly flooding him and Jenna’s eyes snapped up, meeting his through the crack in the door. Jensen stared back at her, frozen to the spot, and Jenna muttered something softly to her three cousins before disentangling herself from the bundle and carefully stepping around them to meet her dad at the door.

She stepped into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind her and Jensen was on her instantly, slipping down to his knees and shoving his half drunk coffee cup away from them so he was at her eye level and able to wrap his arms around his eleven year-old daughter, pulling her tightly against his chest. Jenna let out a shocked gasp and Jensen shook his head, holding her tighter.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, honey,” he whispered against her ear, running his fingers through the back of her hair. It took Jenna a moment, but then she sighed softly, her arms coming back around his neck and hugging him tightly.

“Daddy, you don’t have to be sorry,” Jenna whispered, running her hands over his back and Jensen felt the tears spring to his eyes, couldn’t fight back the few that slipped free. “We miss her, too. We understand, okay? I love you.”

“Jenna… God, Jenna. No, I’ve been so…” he stopped, choking on a sob and clung to her even more tightly. “I haven’t been much of a father lately, and I’m so damned sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Papa will be home soon, Daddy. Then everything will go back to normal.”

Jensen didn’t have the heart to disagree, didn’t want to tell her that Papa might not come back normal at all, didn’t want to tell her that he wasn’t sure if he would be the same again, either. As he clung to her, his daughter’s warmth soaking into him, her soft reassurances against his ear, he promised himself, that at the very least, he damn well was going to try.

March 3rd, 1971
Tân An, Vietnam

The ringing in Jared’s ear was almost as distressing as the nausea rolling in his stomach. He could smell burning flesh, the wet earth and jungle that surrounded them, all overwhelming. He swallowed hard, his throat thick and dry as he let his eyes trail over the village before him.

Months ago, it had been their salvation, a respite from the jungle and sleeping underneath the stars. The American sympathizers were kind, willing to share what little comfort and food they had with a gentle smile and a spot by their fires, and Jared knew that it ultimately caused their demise.

He could feel the three men at his back, their boots squelching in the mud as they approached him and Jared realized he’d fallen to his knees, the damn ground soaking in through his uniform pants and sending a chill up his spine.

“Sergeant…” One of them said softly --Dionne-- and Jared tilted his head, the only indication that he had heard him. “Should… should we set up a perimeter?”

“No,” Jared replied, shaking his head as he let his eyes trail over the still smoldering huts. “Look for survivors.”

He knew there wouldn’t be any but he couldn’t just walk away, he had to know and he had to see each and every face that stared lifelessly back up at him. Together, the four of them picked their way through the wreckage, careful of puddles and glowing embers. When they reached the back of the clearing, Jared stopped short.

Though there had been a few dead bodies, men mostly, scattered here and there on the pathways between the huts or crumpled in smoking doorways, the rest were here, piled in a giant mass of limbs and clothing, mud and fire. Behind him he heard the retching, heard his three men step back, afraid to get any closer to the smell or the sight of what lay ahead. Jared didn’t care.

Jared pushed himself forward, breathing shallowly through his mouth and trying not to breathe in through his nose. There was so much blood, and he could smell the thick, sweet, copper scent of it even through the flames and blistered flesh. Jared wondered if he would always be able to smell the blood, always be able to feel it on him.

For a moment his vision swam and it all rushed back to him. Slammed hard into his chest and heart with the horrible smell the terrifying memories…..

Jared could feel it now, thick and drying on his hands as he pressed hard against Chad’s chest, the heat of the fresh blood squirting back at him despite all of his pressure.

“Don’t you dare, don’t you dare fucking die on me, Murray!”

Jared pressed harder, the sounds of men screaming ringing in his ears, but his eyes couldn’t leave Chad’s face --pale, spots of blood splattered on his throat and cheek, one spot clinging to his eyelashes.

“Get home to him, Jared,” Chad choked, body seizing beneath Jared’s hands. “Get home to that man of yours, promise me that.”

“Fuck you, Chad. Fuck you!”

Chad laughed. More blood. Another shot fired. And Jared was frozen, waiting for help, for anyone to come and help him stop this from happening. There was so much blood…

“Did you call?”

“‘Course I called… shut up and save your energy.”

When EVAC came, Chad had done just that, hadn’t spoken another word, and no fresh blood had leaked out between Jared’s fingers. He had felt the guys at his back, knew what that had probably meant, but he wasn’t moving, wasn’t letting go of Chad’s chest until someone else, someone who knew better than he, was there to take over.

“You’re gonna be just fine,” Jared whispered.

His hands stuck to the skin of Chad’s chest, to his uniform, as Jared pulled away and relinquished control to the medic and Chad barely flinched. His eyes opened though and he met Jared’s own.

Jared swallowed hard, forced himself to open his eyes and look at the mass of smoldering bodies in front of him now. He’d told all of them they were going to be fine, too. He’d told the rest of his men they would all be getting home.

He had lied.

Chad’s pale face swam in his vision again and he knew, in his heart, that the chances of ever seeing his friend again were slim to none. He’d lost Young and Kent to heavy gunfire. Hemming was shipped with Murray to Germany for medical treatment. And every single one of them, the three men at his back still following him blindly and the village slaughtered before him, were all his fault. He’d caused this all. He’d chosen to stop here, pushed his men forward into Hó Bò Woods, gotten the one person in this fucked up place that he could trust killed.

Jared finally tore his gaze away, his eyes now tracking across the wet ground until they locked on a child’s body he recognized. He blinked, the face flashing from the small girl of the Vietnamese village to the smiling face of Jenna safe back home.

Clutched tightly in the dead child’s small hand was a simple, carved wooden duck. And Jared’s stomach finally betrayed him and he leaned forward, vomiting violently, hands digging into the warm mud.

He had lied. It was all his fault. All his fault.

Master Post || Chapter Fourteen || Chapter Sixteen