FIC: Seed (Deathknell, 1/1)

[nilchance]

Title: Seed
Author: nilchance
A/N: A snapshot from Deathknell, Under Wandering Stars. Jensen eats a peach.



The stall was small and dense, an oasis in the middle of the bustling crowd. The air smelled like wax and bleach, sweat and sawdust. Jensen's shoulders ached from hunching. Not enough air in the market, too many people around to close in on him. He could feel eyes on his back. That wasn't paranoia or the flash-fire nightmares that kept rising up to blind him; they had a tail, a man strolling behind them to take Jensen's kill. Keeping his distance for now, until they had fewer witnesses. Chancellor's man, not Bentley's, a silent confirmation of what Jonas's death had only hinted. Their game had been made, and now Chancellor thought he could play, too.

Mine, Jensen thought savagely, trying to radiate it through the stiffness of his spine. If he met an attack dog with a hard stare and his own rattling snarl, there was a chance they might back off. It was better than dying with empty hands raised and a simpering 'nice doggy' on his lips. My kill, my quarry, mine.

As long as Jeff was alive, Jensen had time to develop an exit strategy. It was as simple as that. Anything else was Jensen's cover, only an act, only the job. It had to be. A mistake like last night couldn't happen again. He would hold himself together with glue and tape if he had to, but the center would damn well hold until this was over. He could break when he was free.

Jeff was a hot line against Jensen's back.

"Here," the woman called Samantha said, smiling as she held out her hand. "We just got this in today."

The peach lay small and fuzzy in her palm, a strange echo of the huge cartoon fruit portrayed on the outside of AgriBox cans. Jensen remembered chunks of orange swimming in chemical sap, crouching in the corner and sucking his sticky fingers clean. There was still a leaf jutting from the peach's stem. Somewhere far from here, there were orchards full of fruit trees, but Jensen couldn't picture it.

Warily, Jensen stretched out and took the peach from Samantha's hand. Her wrist was smooth and unmarked. Their fingers brushed. Jensen managed not to drop anything while his heart jerked hard against his ribs. This wasn't the gutter or the slavehold, and he wouldn't dart back to hide his prize. She was letting him have it, a lure for the rest of the sale. He managed a smile and ducked his head, trying for shy, probably looking spastic.

Believe me. Believe that I'm just a simple screwed-up slave, even if I don't, even if I wish I could--

His thumb dug a little into the dark, supple curve where stem gave way to flesh. He rolled the peach over to hide that imperfection and felt the juice bleed into his palm.

"Go on," Samantha coaxed.

The smell was sharp and clean, the fuzz ticklish against his lips. It was unpleasantly like pubic hair, and he barely kept from choking on memory. Then it yielded beneath his teeth, and juice flooded his mouth. Startled, he closed his eyes. It felt intimate, the wetness on his tongue so sweet it almost hurt. It was good, pure, and he was hungry. The taste seemed to resonate, pulling a low noise from his throat.

For a moment, there was nothing else. For a moment, he could forget.

Then Samantha laughed. Still swallowing, trying to get the last bit of sweetness out of the flesh and off his fingertips, Jensen opened his eyes and found Jeff watching him. Jeff's smile was nothing he recognized; Jensen's face felt hot.

It was an act. It was his cover, the crowd, the heat, the drugging sweetness of the peach. He wasn't lost. He wasn't drowning. It was fine, he was fine, of course he was fine.

Mine, Jensen thought traitorously, and looked away, rubbing his thumb over the knotted stone of the peach. The flesh around its heart was red as blood.

Comments

[embroiderama]

GAH! OMG the imagery here, the whole sensory experience of Jensen in the market and the peach--it's awesome. And delicious. And I want a peach AND Jensen. I have neither, but a nectarine will do. :)

[wendy.livejournal.com]

Oh this all makes me feel so emotional...sad and angry and scared, all at once. Poor baby, I just want to cuddle Jensen into submission and comfort.

[ysbail.livejournal.com]

Jensen's resolve is crumbling .... the imagery here is stunning. I see Jensen as that peach, a hidden centre and trying to hide the imperfections in what is shown to the outside world.

Love it.

[eponin10.livejournal.com]

Lovely :)

[glitterglam13.livejournal.com]

I love how this complements Jeff's POV, and underlines Jensen's confusion. He's so broken he can't even understand himself and he's in an impossible situation without a way out. Loved how you used something so simple as eating a peach to convey so much about his frame of mind.

[deathangelgw.livejournal.com]

*squeaks* damnit!! and peaches are my fave too!! you spoil I swear to god!

[bluesister.livejournal.com]

a man strolling behind them to take Jensen's kill
Wow. I hadn't realized how much Jensen was in an assassin headspace in this scene. It makes sense tho'.

Ah, seeing from Jensen's POV is as rewarding as I'd hoped. And timed well with the newest chapter since we then see Jared looking at Jensen and trying to match up the assassin with the broken slave.

Is there a paticular market in either of your heads when you write that location? 'Cause I keep picturing Granville in Vancouver which would be, you know, appropriate.

[poisontaster]

Apropos of nothing, every time I hear or read about peaches, I hear Nic Cage/John Travolta from Face/Off saying "I could eat a peach all day long." It's even HOTTER when I think about Jensen saying it. Gnnngh.

I love the chaos of Jensen's headspace here; talking to himself, talking to the assassin, on some level talking to Morgan, Bentley and Chancellor. He's so beautifully fucked up and it delights me and makes my heart ache at the same time.

[geneli4.livejournal.com]

that's one hell of a powerful closing. NICE.

[mona1347.livejournal.com]

*flail*

[ixchel55.livejournal.com]

Gorgeously woven. You capture Jensen's mind so beautifully. It's convoluted and jumble and yet at the same time it's sharp and focused. It must be rather extraordinary to have at least a small part of you on the outside looking in and realize just how fucked up you are.

[iwwfw.livejournal.com]

I'm just *guh*

The only coherent thing I can think to say is that I am DAMN glad I bought peaches yesterday. My only regret is that I wouldn't have the same experience fresh peach-virgin Jensen would have.

[culturegeek76.livejournal.com]

Poor jensen, trying to talk himself into his assassin headspace despite the fact that he wants to leave it... he needs some TLC from Jared and Jeff to fix him up! Great stuff.

Ooooooooo!

[spongepuff.livejournal.com]

Wow! fantastic writing and what Jensen was thinking was so far off what I thought he was thinking! I requested some Jensen POVs in a previous comment, and, if you were responding to my request, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! And, if you were responding to some other request, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!! And if you decide to write anymore Jensen POVs, like when he was running away in the snow, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!! I know, my ingratitude is unbelievable, but so is my love for these Deathknell stories. I've had a rotten couple of days and I was thinking tonight, oh please, please just one more Deathknell chapter because I deserve something nice, and I go look and there's not one but TWO new installations. And I really do feel better--your stories and beanside's make me very happy. Thanks again, spongepuff

[tittakv.livejournal.com]

Lovely bit! It makes me ache to see how desperately Jensen's hanging on.

[bkm5191.livejournal.com]

god that was fabulous.

[fureux.livejournal.com]

i kind of want to curl up and cry now. hotdamn! how you ladies conjure up this magic is worthy of precious pretty things of beauty.

[thanatoseve.livejournal.com]

"Believe me. Believe that I'm just a simple screwed-up slave, even if I don't, even if I wish I could--"

This killed me, so much angst and misdemeanour's.

[kbpen.livejournal.com]

"The taste seemed to resonate, pulling a low noise from his throat." I felt that noise rumble through my body when I read this. So good!

I love how confused Jensen is. I was kinda sad that the move to protect Jeff wasn't purely heroic, but I'm a sap like that. The complexity is why this is such a great story. I feel like I'm holding my breath for the next installment.

[ellel.livejournal.com]

Beautiful!
And I am loving Jensen's POV...

[nilchance.livejournal.com]

*laugh* Don't we all want a Jensen, really?

Thank you!

[nilchance.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much!

[nilchance.livejournal.com]

That's very perceptive of you! Yeah, Jensen is kind of starting to fall apart here; what he thought he knew has turned out to be completely off base, and it's throwing him.

[nilchance.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[nilchance.livejournal.com]

Thank you very much!

[nilchance.livejournal.com]

Hee! Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it.

[iyalode.livejournal.com]

I've read *cough* many times. Just couldn't put down why this one hit me so hard. So many contradictions here. Hints of sensuality as he eats the peach v's the gag reflex when he's reminded of pubic hair.

Jensen's almost feral possessiveness of Jeff ...as his 'kill'. There's this air of fragility with a centre of boiling rage. So. Fucked. Up. Honestly, I just love this to pieces.

[nilchance.livejournal.com]

I personally picture Reading Terminal in Philadelphia, a rambling market with fish and produce and chaos. I've never actually been to Vancouver, but man, would I love to go, and it's awesome that you picture Granville.

Thank you so much!

[realpestilence.livejournal.com]

"Jensen eats a peach" has GOT to be the most minimal/least revelatory summary of a fic, ever!

Wow, you managed to pack a hell of a lot into this. Slave flashbacks, fucked in the head thinking, true sensuality, angst...and maybe a little hope, somewhere in there.

Now, I kinda wish Jeff would paint Jensen in peach juice and lick it off, for some reason.



Pesti