Jared wasn't sure if it was divine intervention, immense good luck, or the favor of his own lovable leprechaun, but finding Jensen was less a matter of tracking him down, and more a case of nearly running him over with the jeep.

"Jesus!" Jared yelled, slamming his foot on the break. Sam's language put Jared's to shame, and they both stumbled out of the vehicle and on to the quiet side street. Executing a very Starsky-esque slide over the hood, Jared made it to Jensen's side in seconds, grabbing at his shoulders in fear, and getting a punch to the jaw for his trouble.

"Fuck! Ow, what the hell?"

"Don't take it personally!" Marc panted as he skidded up alongside them. "You ain't the first dude he's put the smack down on today." The look Marc was wearing was, in Jared's opinion, far to fucking amused for the fucked up situation they were all in.

He'd call the bastard on it when he wasn't wrestling an armful of wriggling Jensen. Taking a fair few bruises for his trouble, Jared finally got Jensen's attention long enough to read the dozen or so emotions warring for dominance in his eyes.

He blinked.

Jensen wasn't scared. He wasn't in the grips of a panic attack -or any attack for that matter- and he wasn't the trembling figure Jared had been anticipating.

He was pissed.

That was a good thing, right?

*****

Or not, as it turned out. Even Sam had been thrown off kilter, staring into the rear-view mirror as Marc drove them back to his own apartment. Jared had sat in an awkward huddle behind Sam, watching Jensen the way Nobel must have eyed the first prototypes for dynamite. Jensen had ignored all three, steam practically pouring from his ears as he hissed an endless stream of adjective peppered expletives. Jared didn't think he was even aware that anyone else could hear them, and the unexpected look into Jensen's subconscious was both unwelcome, and somewhat scary.

Note to self, Jared thought meekly never ever piss off Jensen. Pissing off was to be avoided at all costs.

"Kale Roberts?" Jared echoed Marc's words with a shudder of disbelief. "Jensen KO'd Kale fucking Roberts?"

"Hmm." Marc said as he flicked the ignition off. "You can expect the court summons in the morning. Dude, it was so fucking sweet. Jen's probably just landed himself on the Christmas card list of half of LA."

Assault….his Jensen…his sweet, cuddly, stray kitten rescuing, cookie baking, fluffy sock wearing Jensen…

Jensen stormed out of the car the minute the engine died, snarling at the curious passer-by who had stopped to greet Marc. Jared shook his head. Alien abduction, it had to be.

Jesus Christ, he had a headache. Sam Winchester's psychic death visions of doom had nothing on Jared's Jensen Stress Headaches. Fucking pussy hunter. "I'll get Henry to hire a lawyer." He muttered. Or ten.

Sam snorted, pausing halfway between sidewalk and seat. "Somehow I think a deaf guy with a life threatening illness might get away with smacking some sleazy photographer who has more restraining orders than Imelda Marcos had shoes."

"I guess…"

Jensen was waiting in the foyer of the building. As soon as Jared was inside, he rounded, ready to attack. Bunching his fists in Jared's shirt, he snarled, "What the fuck?"

Which was about the time Jared realized that the shit already on the fan was almost laughable in comparison to the mess that would follow.

"Can I take the fifth?" He signed.

Jensen snarled.

"I'mma….I…coffee," Marc muttered to himself, abandoning his wait for the elevator and sprinting for the stairs, leaving Jared with an apoplectic Jensen and a wide-eyed Sam.

Jared managed the comic Wile E. Coyote type panic-swallow and held his hands up in surrender. "David-" Jensen didn't even wait to see what else Jared said. He went white, then a little green, before settling on a rather startling shade of crimson. Jared jumped back in surprise as Jensen shoved one of his hands into the back pocket of his jeans. Normally there was no issue with anything of Jensen's ending up in his jeans but right then he would probably have been safer sucking on a live grenade.

With an overly loud shout of triumph, Jensen held Jared's phone aloft and started to flick through the contact list.

Jared saw him hit 'D Mob', took a step back, and watched nervously as Jensen hit dial, then waited for the screen to flash to connected. When Jared heard David's voice on loudspeaker, he gave a little, rather reluctant nod.

Jensen nodded as well, raised the phone to his lips, and in a voice that would have deafened zombies in New Zealand he screamed, "YOU'RE A FUCKING CUNT," down the line.

If there hadn't been a young mother and a flock of giggling kiddies crossing the foyer at the time, Jared might have laughed.

Then before either he or Sam could stop him, Jensen threw Jared's cell down onto the stone floor, dropped to his knees, and started to shake.

*****

"I take it you heard that." Jared asked mildly an hour later when he called David back. Anger was banging on the metaphorical doors of his mind, ready to pounce, charge town the phone and throttle David with the cable of his own landline. And if the phone was cordless, it would drown him in the toilet. Jared wasn't all that bothered which.

Some sadistic part of him had broken loose and cackled gleefully at the horse, broken voice David spoke with when he responded. "Yeah." Jared might have felt guilty, then he remembered Jensen and the way he was that very minute curled up in Marc's bathroom as he alternated between sobbing and trying to vomit up his intestines. Nope, sadistic was good.

"Why?" That was the fucking question, wasn't it? Or one fucking question, anyway. Others might have been 'how good can you hide?' and 'how long does it take a dude to bleed to death after cutting off his dick?'

David sighed heavily. "I was jealous." He said.

Not the answer he was looking for. Not even close. "You gave up any right to feel jealous when you decided to just walk away." Jared snarled.

That got a reaction, thank god. "I did what he wanted!" David hissed back at him.

"He gave you a choice. Just like he did me. Only difference is that I made the right decision."

"What the fuck was I supposed to do, Jay? Hang around and fight for a guy who was in love with my best friend? A guy who never loved me in the first place? Or what? Was I supposed to hang around and make us both miserable because he was too fucking chicken to tell me to fuck off, and you were too busy thinking with your dick to realize what you were getting into?"

Funny, when David put it like that…"You were supposed to behave like a fucking adult!" Jared yelled right back, well aware that a shouting match over the phone was anything but mature. "Not run to the press and fuck up both our lives because you were jealous. Do you know what happened? What could have happened? Nothing Sam is giving him is helping. How could you do that to him? How could you be so selfish?"

David snorted. "You're the one that landed him in hospital." He spat back nastily.

Jared recoiled from the phone. Low fucking blow!

To hell with maturity.

"Fuck you." He finished, and hung up the phone. It rang a second later. "What?"

It was Kripke. "Ah, afternoon Jay. Hoped I'd find you here." Eric said, sunny voice as bright and cheerful as ever. "I have the press outside, and the studio on hold; they're all asking about you and Jensen. Anything you would like me to say?"

Oh for the love of…Jesus Christ on the cross. Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off! Fuck the show, and fuck the world. He and Jensen could run away to Hawaii or something…

"What have you said?" He asked tiredly, massaging his brow with the tips of his fingers.

"Other than 'get the fuck off my property'?" Eric asked, "not much. Obviously this is going to cause a few…waves, but I figured it would be best if I spoke to Jensen and you before I go admitting our Sammy is waving the rainbow flag." God love Eric, as politically correct as a Golliwog. "What does your agent say?"

"I've not deciphered the screaming yet." Jared said dryly, trying not to think about the horrendous battering his ear drums had taken after Henry finally got him on the phone.

"What about your folks?"

Jared blinked. His mama, his pop…his brother and sister and opps….

"Aw fucking hell."

Read Part Twenty One Intrinsic Value in the Louder Than Words 'Verse by SplashPink