So they might not get a season two.

The world sucked out loud. They had to be picked up. Jensen had promised to write an entire monologue dedicated to Sam's abysmal driving skills, and it was worth the extra season just to watch Marc try to keep a straight face whilst delivering it.

Still, hiatus/unemployment was not something to be looked in the face. Kripke had damn near killed them filming the season finale…quite literally. The blame was entirely Eric's, but given the practically pornographic scene that had been played out between Marc and Jeff, Jared would have been surprised if Jensen hadn't had a teeny tiny bit of influence over some of the banter.

He and Marc had parted ways back in Vancouver, both favoring a little road trip to relax themselves on their way home. Marc was heading across Canada to stay with relatives before catching a flight to his girlfriend's house in NY. Jared was driving down the coast, bunking at Jeff's place in Seattle for a few nights, whilst his dogs dozed serenely in the back of his truck.

If they did lose the contract, and the Winchester boys were forever doomed to spend eternity unconscious in the shell of a classic car, then it would be Marc Jared missed the most. Marc, and the free candy.

The endearingly annoying bastard had sort of wormed himself into Jared's little bubble of awesome people, which now consisted of his family, David, Chad (that was one bubble that wouldn't pop-even when blasted with a tomahawk) and *cough* Jensen.

Speaking of…

No. Not speaking of. Jensen was a topic not to be touched upon with words. Or thoughts.

Which went absolutely nowhere towards explaining how, after only a day back in LA, he found himself on Jensen's doorstep, finger on the buzzer.

Sam appeared at the door long enough to open it before making a brisk retreat back inside.

Jensen lay sprawled across the bathroom floor, a blanket kicked around his ankles. He was settled amongst a small pile of pillows, one tugged tight against his chest in the way a child might cling to a teddy bear. The room stank of sweat and vomit, Jensen's misery so sharp that a part of Jared could feel it in his bones. Fine tremors of exhaustion shook Jensen's shoulders, and his face was damp with sweat and tears.

Despite every instinct in him demanding he rush to Jensen's side, Jared couldn't actually make his feet cross the threshold.

Sam brushed past him with a plastic cup of ice chips. Crouching by Jensen's side, she pressed a small chip against his chapped lips and he moaned miserably.

That sound was enough to kick Jared into motion. He strode forwards, only to be stopped by Sam's hand on his ankle. "Don't touch him if you can help it." She instructed.

"Why?" Jared meant the question to be curious. Instead it was snapped, short and full of fear.

Sam ignored his tone entirely and pressed a second chip to Jensen's lips. "His brain is on a stimulation overdrive right now." She explained. "Moving will make him feel sicker, and touching him excessively will just force him to compute extra, unnecessary, sensations. You can't bring him any comfort right now."

Jensen twisted to lay more on his back, his eyes wide and fixed on the lampshade above. The lights were off, but Jared could clearly see the whites of Jensen's eyes, and the way his chest heaved with each shuddering breath.

"If you are going to stay," Sam continued, swapping the cup for a damp cloth, "then just sit."

Jared nodded mutely, sliding down the wall and watching as she cleaned away the perspiration dripping into Jensen's eyes.

Sit. He could sit.

*****

By the time the four-hour mark loomed, Jared had bitten his nails bloody and was pretty close to vomiting himself. Every time Jensen attempted to throw up a lung he flinched, muscled cramping from the effort not to wrap Jensen in a big mystical bubble and fight the disease off with a sharp sword. Or rock salt. Jensen's weak shuddering and pained whimpers weren't all that dissimilar from the effects of an exorcism. They needed Jeff to go all Papa Winchester on this things ass.

Of course Jeff had already seen this before. He'd been just as helpless.

When it reached the point that Jensen was no longer strong enough to hold onto the rim of the toilet, Jared threw Sam's words of caution out the window. It was a tight squeeze, the three of them on the small bathroom, but Jared was well practiced in being able to make his lanky frame fit into awkward spaces. Sam didn't stop him, but her eyes were as sharp as a mother fox's as Jared hesitantly laid his hand on the center of Jensen's back.

The thin long sleeved t-shirt Jensen was wearing was soaking with sweat, and the pale skin beneath it felt cold and clammy under Jared's hand. "Easy, Jen." It felt a little ridiculous to whisper soothing words in Jensen's ear, but they served a dual purpose and actually took the edge off Jared's frantic fear.

Jensen whimpered and curled in on himself when Jared tried to maneuver him into a more comfortable position. "Please," he whispered brokenly, "no."

"Don't move him, kid." Sam warned when Jared turned to look beseechingly at her. "You'll make it worse for him."

Hearing that he couldn't even attempt to sooth Jensen without causing him more pain was a wound Jared couldn't bear. He gently let Jensen settle back down amongst his make shift bedding before stumbling from the bathroom, his eyes burning.

"Damnit, Jared." Sam hissed, following him to the point where she could keep both men in her line of vision.

Jared wasn't crying when he spun on his heels to face her, but he was close. "He can't hear us, we can't touch him, can't comfort him. We're just what, supposed to watch him suffer?"

"Yes, Jared. That is exactly what we're supposed to do. We're supposed to watch him fight a battle with his own body that we can't even comprehend. We're supposed to comfort and care for him when it is over. Then we're supposed to treat him like a damn human being again when he's well, and if you can't handle any of that, then you best leave right this damn minute. He's not one of your buddies, kid. You can't slap him on the back and fix his problems with a six pack and a basketball game."

That was where the problem was, wasn't it? There really was nothing Jared could do. He couldn't wave a magic wand and fix things, and he wanted to. He wanted to so badly it hurt.

"I can't-" Can't do this. Can't stand it. Can't see him in pain.

Sam's face set into a hard mask. "Like I said, if you can't handle it, then leave. You're no good to me if you are a nervous wreck, and it would break his heart if you went coco on us." Her arms crossed over her chest. If she had been a foot taller with red hair, Jared could have seen her as Boudicca squaring off against an army of Romans. Her hair was actually a mousey brown, and she stood as tall as Jared's bicep, but the effect of her frown was no less intimidating.

Jared sniffed noisily and rubbed his nose on the back of his short sleeve. "It's been five hours, Sam." He whispered almost as quiet as the few words Jensen spoke.

Sam nodded. "And it could go on for another five minutes, or another ten hours." Jared winced, looking behind her to where Jensen was huddled.

"What do I have to do?"

******

Under Sam's orders, Jared had taken a shower and obediently eaten a small meal whilst she manned the fort in the bathroom. He was no good to Jensen at that point, she had rationalized, and if he passed out from starvation then he'd be no good when Jensen did need him. The logic was there, though Jared resented every inch of it, and he'd managed half a bowl of pasta salad before his thoughts turned back to Jensen and his stomach rebelled.

It was nice to be in clothes that didn't stink of sickness, even if they were David's and a touch too tight across the shoulders. He'd never have fitted into Jensen's clothes.

Things were still in full swing by the time he'd washed the dishes. After dragging a hand-over-heart promise from Sam to call him the second there was a change, Jared slipped his cell into his pocket and went for a run. An hour later and his legs were aching with the effort he had put forth. The sun had begun to paint the sky a beautiful blood red, and his cell played the Top Gun theme tune when it rang.

He made the trip back to Jensen's house in double time, crashing inelegantly through the front door with red cheeks and his heart pounding a mile a minute.

"Jen?" Jared walked into a two doorframes and a coffee table in hi haste to make it to Jensen's side. As soon as he stepped into the bathroom a grin broke out on his face, so bright and wide that it hurt. "Hey you." He smiled, crossing the small space and crouching down.

Jensen was no longer sprawled across the floor, but slumped against the side of the shower. His eyes were half lidded with exhaustion and his smile was pained, but when he reached for Jared's hands there was co-ordination in his limbs. Nothing to write home about, but his fingers actually found Jared's skin.

Sam had helped him out of his t-shirt and jeans and wrapped him in a fluffy dressing gown, even going so far as to pull the hood up over his head. Jensen looked like St Nick's hot younger brother after a night on the tiles.

"Alright Gigantor," Sam smiled, "time to earn your keep. Help me get him upstairs."

Jared nodded. A part of him was surprised by the lack of shame written on Jensen's face. He supposed if this was how every attack left him, shame would have been put to touch years ago.

Shaking off Sam's move to assist them, Jared pulled Jensen close to his chest and lifted. Jensen was practically asleep when Sam wound his arms loosely around Jared's neck and settled his head at a more comfortable angle.

He was asleep when Jared settled him in the bathtub in the en-suit bathroom and Sam went about washing away the layers of perspiration and sickness on his skin. Jared silently assisted her, supporting Jensen's head and shoulders as she worked efficiently, her steady stream of conversation entirely for his benefit.

"Normally I'd just give him a wash down in bed," she explained, swiping a wet cloth across Jensen's chest. "Figured I'd make good use of all those rippling muscles of yours." She cast a playful leer at him and chuckled when Jared blushed.

If Jensen had been as malleable as a doll that night in Jared's home, then he was roughly the consistency of a melting Mars Bar under Jared's hands. Occasionally his lips would part, soft gushes of air puffing against Jared's ear, but for the most it was as if they were caring for an infant: fragile, helpless, his limbs with a mind of their own.

Sam let the water out of the tub and gathered an armful of fluffy dove grey towels. Jared had rolled his sleeves up past his elbows, but still got his sweater wet when he lifted Jensen from the draining water and held him for Sam to wrap him in towels. He could honestly say it was the first time he had ever touched a naked adult and there been nothing remotely sexual involved.

It was…nice. Not nice that Jensen was sick...just nice.

"How long will he be like this?" Jared asked, helping Sam dry Jensen off.

She shrugged. "A few days, maybe more. Depends how easy he takes it. We'll get him to drink some water in a little while, then tomorrow we'll start him on the soup and crackers." Jared nodded and rested his cheek against Jensen's hair. It was no wonder Jensen was so damn skinny if he was surviving on soup for days at a time, then purging his system so often.

Jensen stirred long enough to poke Jared in the eye when he and Sam tried to wrestle a sweater over his head. A bleary blink, a "Jay?" and he was once again out for the count.

"Well you're a cheap date, that's for sure." Jared said wryly, rolling on a pair of Jensen's socks and manhandling him under the covers Sam pulled back.

Sam snorted darkly. "You're soft in the head, kid." She grinned. "You going to come downstairs? Or do I have to get a crowbar to pry you two apart?"

"I'mma hang here for a bit." Jared said, more asking permission than making a statement."Read some, keep an eye on him…" He trailed off, looking down at Jensen's sleeping form and sighing tiredly.

Sam nodded in understanding and her voice was gentle. "He's fine, you know. Couple of days rest, he'll be back to his usual chatty self."

"I know, it's just…."

"Scary?" She asked. Jared nodded. "Seeing someone you care about suffering always is." She gathered up the damn towels and turned to leave the room.

"Still think I'm an asshole?" Jared asked as he climbed up next to Jensen, just the way Jensen had done for him.

"I'll bring you some cookies and milk." She said, dryly evading the question.

One bright flash of the dimples had her muttering under her breath as she descended the stairs.

"Chicks dig the dimples." He confided in Jensen, earning himself a snore of agreement. "You're pretty cute for a sick guy, you know that right?" He asked, brushing aside a damp lock of hair and placing a gentle kiss on Jensen's brow. "So…you being deaf has its advantages." Jared continued thoughtfully, settling more comfortably against the cushions. "If I tell you I love you, you can't hear me, can you?" Jensen snuffled tiredly and turned his face towards the heat of Jared's hand. "Cool." Jared smiled. "That's cool."

Read Part Eight Cookie Crumbs and Cheesecake in the Louder Than Words 'Verse by SplashPink