Looks like I'm back with another Supernatural fanfiction, though this does go into RPF. So, it's Jensen/Jared. This is gonna start out super dark and is not, I REPEAT: IS NOT for the faint of heart!

It deals with blood, gore, non-con and many other horror themes. If you have a queasy stomach, this won't be for you. Otherwise, feel free to proceed and let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: This is purely ficticious and in no way reflects Jensen Ackles or Jared Padalecki


FULL SUMMARY: During the week of Valentine's Day, the cast takes a break after filming the first half of Supernatural. Like every year, fan-letters come flooding in for the stars of the show. One in particular that was sent to Jensen gains attention when a video is included with a small box. A letter asks that the video be watched before the box is opened. The one filming says how their favourite movie is My Bloody Valentine and that they are a huge fan of Jensen. The break of relaxation quickly turns to a real-life horror film as the person shows Jared, locked and bound.


1: Blood and Alcohol

"I can't believe you're gonna bail on the cast party tonight. What could be so important?"

Jared shrugged and shoved his hands into his brown leather coat.

"I already told you. Gen's going out of town for a few weeks to visit her sister, so I was gonna surprise her and see her off, since we're not going to be together for Valentine's Day."

Jensen nodded with a pursed smile, jerking his shoulders to pull his own coat up higher on his shoulders as it had started to slide off. He shivered from the cold, but that did not stop him from slapping Jared hard on the back, actually making the other step forward.

"Always the gentleman."

Jared turned his head to meet Jensen's cocky smile with a sneer. "Bite me."

"Where and how hard?"

Jared laughed awkwardly.

A yellow cab finally came up to the outside of the hotel, stopping in the designated zone in front of them. The cabbie did not even acknowledge them, other than with a glance to make sure there were actually people that were going to be using his taxi. After motioning to it, the cabbie popped the trunk and Jared lifted his bag to carry it over; Jensen took a smaller bag that Jared almost left behind. They placed the luggage in the trunk and Jensen shut the trunk door, releasing a breath; his breath came out in a string of white smoke as they walked back to the side of the cab.

Jensen opened the door to lean on it.

"Ah…can't believe you're gonna leave me alone on Valentine's Day, Jare," he said in a depressed tone, hanging and shaking his head solemnly. He pretended to sniff. "And all this time, I thought we had a special connection."

Jared laughed and bit his tongue.

"Oh? And celebrate like last year? Where you just pelted me with Sweethearts? And, yeah. You're gonna be alone…with fifty other people." He set his hand on Jensen's shoulder. "How ever will you manage?"

Jensen lifted his head with an inhale, staring upwards, looking pained. "I don't know…but I'll be strong." His eyebrows creased his forehead as he brought his fist to his mouth, biting his knuckle as he forced an odd-sounding cry from this top of his throat. Jared, again, just laughed. Jensen sighed, bringing his hand down, face moving back to his typical cocky attitude. "So you're gonna make me hang out with Misha for the next week? Jared…you heartless bastard."

The younger lead's shoulders raised and fell as he acted to look sympathetic. Looking as though he was going to say something thoughtful, he responded with, "You'll manage," before getting into the vehicle. As Jensen shut the door for him, Jared was rolling down the window, which Jensen just leaned on. "Make sure you call Danny this time."

Jensen raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Jared frowned when Jensen only smirked. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you forgot to call her last year…until I reminded you, that is."

A grin laced Jensen's face. "Always lookin' out for me, Jerry." Jared rolled his eyes. "All right." Jensen pulled back, but kept his hands on the door. "Well, tell Gen I said hey and call me when you get there."

Jared snickered and shook his head. "Yeah. Okay, Mom."

Jensen grinned. "Damn right." He tapped on the door before dropping his hands. "See ya at the end of the week and be careful, would ya?"

Jared just nodded and waved him off as the cabbie finally began pulling away from the hotel. Jensen just watched the car drive off and the window roll up before releasing a sigh and turning around, walking back into the hotel.

-o-o-o-o-

Loud cheers erupted from the hotel's basement bar as shots were drained and glasses were slammed on tables, only to be quickly replaced with full ones. Part of the cast cheered again when another round passed, celebrating the completion of the first half of season eight of Supernatural. A week break in-between filming was a time to kick back and relax, but, being in Vancouver, it was not as though it was enough time to travel to home and back. Jared was going to be cutting it close. Chances were that he would return the last day of the break. Granted, he would only see Genevieve for a few hours before having to turn right back around, but it was better than not at all.

Or so Jensen tried to convince himself as he took another swig of his beer.

It probably made him look like a horrible person—

Hell. He knew it made him look like a horrible person. Jared was taking advantage of the time off to see his wife, whereas, he, Jensen, was staying put. Danneel understood why, though; what with rarely having a break, and then using that small break time to travel, which tended to cause stress, anyway. So he did not have his drinking buddy or roommate. It was not as though he did not have anyone else to chill with.

Even though the random talk about unimportant crap with Jared in the early hours of the morning did garner entertainment.

"You look so out of place without Jared around."

Jensen shook himself out of his thoughts and looked up just in time to see Misha taking a seat in the chair on the other end of the circular table. Jensen quickly raised his eyebrows and leaned back, bringing his beer to his lips to take another drink.

"I feel it." Misha snickered, which had Jensen crook his mouth. "What's that for?"

He eyed Misha, who only shrugged and leaned back in the chair, forcing it to balance on two legs.

"Nothing."

The response was quick as he suddenly looked away innocently, avoiding his co-worker's gaze. He dropped the chair with a thud and set his hands on the table, falling into a bow. Jensen could not help but question how many drinks Misha had pumping through his system. By the way he was acting, it was more than he needed.

"Okay, I'm lying." Jensen snorted with sarcastic surprise as he leaned back on the table, holding the bottle by the neck close to his face. Misha lifted his head to meet Jensen's eyes, his own eyes mismatched with intoxication. "Look, you and Jared are always – and mean always – together. And I get it!" he said, waving his hand and shaking his head at Jensen's amused face; though he most likely failed to realize the amused look was due to the way he was acting. "Best friends and all that. Been around each other for eight years, both from Texas, blah blah. But you all have…such, oh, what's the word I want?" He honestly looked confused, as though he was desperately searching for the term. "Chemistry! That's it!"

He stared at Jensen, his face flushed as he only watched the senior Supernatural star continue to look at him with a half-cocked smile and raised eyebrows.

"Misha"—Misha creased his forehead in curiosity—"how much have you had?"

Misha laughed loudly, leaning forward on the table. His laugh was drowned out by the loud chatter and yelling around them.

"Don't change the subject, Jensen!" He reached across the table, grabbing Jensen's forearm. "If I can see it, so can everyone else. You've seen the stuff online." Jensen moved his arm out of the way just as Misha swung his arm, nearly knocking the other's beer all over the table. "You"—he held up his finger in front of his face—"you and Jared, something with you two."

Jensen's laugh caught in his throat and he took another drink to get rid of the knot. "Right. Because, you know, it's not like we're both married or anything."

He jumped when Misha slapped his hand on the table.

"It's a good cover!" Jensen found himself laughing, sporting all teeth as he laughed at Misha's awkward inebriated laugh. "I'm onto you two."

Jensen just nodded, also shaking his head in disbelief. "Oh, yeah. Don't you know, Misha? That's the real reason we share a room. All the late night sex – perfect cure for insomnia."

Misha suddenly looked serious, though it was difficult for Jensen to take him that way when the other was as disheveled as he was. "Don't mock me, Jen." He tried to keep eye contact with Jensen as long as he could before he started laughing again. He pushed back the barstool and stood up, swaying as he did as he tried to walk around the table to where Jensen was sitting. He set his hand on Jensen's shoulder, making the younger man stare sideways up at him. "I just want you to know that"—he turned his head to the side as a burp escaped his throat—"that I support you guys."

Jensen only shook his head, chuckling and setting his drink on the table, facing Misha. "Dude, I think you need to knock off the alcohol."

Misha stopped, looking as though he was about to say something, but, instead, turned his head to the side, facing the table away from Jensen. "I probably do." With a stupid grin, he looked back to Jensen. "I'm not even sure which one of you I'm talking to." He used Jensen's shoulder to push himself up, barely catching his balance.

"Yeah…," Jensen drew out as he stood up. "That's it. You're cut off." He put his hand on Misha's shoulder, making him turn the same direction as he started walking. "Come on. Let's get you back to your room," he said with a laugh as Misha looked back him, eyes hardly opening, but looking nearly oblivious, nonetheless. "Man, you're gonna have one hell of a hangover in the morning."

o-o-o-o-o

Misha fell down on the bed, groaning as he rolled and sat up. Jensen stopped short when the older actor grabbed the sleeve to his shirt, having him turn to face him. Red-faced and swaying, an inebriated, lopsided smile attached itself to Misha's face.

"Jen, I owe you," he slurred.

Jensen laughed and pulled his arm away. "Yeah," he said as Misha fell back on the bed and grabbed the comforter, entangling himself inside it. "You do."

As he began walking back towards the door to leave, he overheard Misha mumbling. "I stand by on what I said." Jensen paused, his hand on the door's handle leading out. "You and Jared…something's there…."

Jensen kept his eyes on the door handle. "Misha?" He looked back; Misha's back was to him and there was silence. He glanced down and turned back, opening the door and leaving a passed out Misha behind.

Once in the hallway, he debated whether or not to return to the cast party downstairs in the bar, or call it a night and head to bed. If he went back downstairs, the best he had to look forward to was getting hammered and mindlessly chatting with his fellow co-stars; Jim always had entertaining things to day, which was an incentive. Not that the others were not entertaining, but without Jared to joke around with and make normal moments awkward, it was not going to be as entertaining – that was for certain. He managed to talk himself out of going back down and ended up walking down the hall to room 1235; he made a sideways glance to 1236, Jared's room, as he took out his room key. His back to the other's vacant room, he inserted the key, pushed the door open once it flashed green and allowed the door to slam shut once he was within its quarters.

He sighed and took his jacket off, tossing it on the table the television was on, then walked into the bathroom, being sure to flip the light on. He turned on the sing and took off his shirt before washing his face, not wanting to soak the linen in the oddly leveled sink.

When he exited the restroom, he was clad only in jeans as he dried his face with a hand towel. His stare became curious when he approached his bed, tossing the towel on the nightstand. He must have missed it when he first walked in, but there was a box sitting on the bed; much like the elongated boxed flowers would be delivered in. Believing it to be an early Valentine's Day gift from Danneel, he smiled inwardly as he opened the lid. Inside was another box, this one smaller and heart-shaped, under a card and a DVD in a red paper sleeve. On the outside of the card, in large lettering, were the words 'THIS FIRST.' He slid his finger under the flap, tearing it open and pulling out the white and pink Valentine card. The smile faded after he opened it and began reading.

Jensen Ackles,

Let me take the time to say that I'm honored to have you read this – I'm one of your biggest fans.

Noting that, I hate knowing that you're alone on Valentine's Day. What with being on location, Danneel currently filming that movie and Jared off, you have to be bored. When I found out you were staying in the Hilton here in Vancouver, I had to send you something. I apologize if this is inconvenient, but I couldn't pass up this chance!

You're one of the best actors I've ever watched, and I don't want to sound like some crazed fanatic saying that – it's sincere. To be perfectly honest, you outshine Jared by far. I personally don't care for his acting. It's overplayed, overbearing and he never seems sincere whenever you two are on or off camera. You deserve better than that and his uncaring demeanor pisses me off.

Sorry. I have a tendency to rant. Anyway, I sent you a quick DVD (that I hope you'll watch) and a small gift. The present will make a lot more sense if you watch the DVD first, though. So…please do that.

Much love,

L.F

Jensen picked up the box and DVD, set the heart-shaped box on the bed and crossed the room to where his laptop sat plugged in on the table by the window. Though he was used to receiving items from fans, he found it a little odd that a package was able to make it to his room; one of the hotel workers must have dropped it off – he had not been in his room since that morning when he had gotten ready. As he took the laptop off of its charger and walked back over to sit on the edge of the bed, he found himself growing annoyed at how the person portrayed Jared. Part of him wanted to take the others items and throw them through a shredder, but the other half was curious enough to take a look. He only had to type in the password once the laptop was opened before being taken to the home screen; he took the DVD out of the sleeve and leaned over as he inserted the disc into the drive. The beach ball cursor spun as it loaded the disc, opening up in VLC media player.

What looked like a handheld camera was being used to film a scene on an old-school television set; the scene took place in a mineshaft, showing a miner with a pickaxe going after a fellow coalminer. Jensen instantly recognized it as the 2007 version of My Bloody Valentine; seeing his younger self behind a cage yelling at the masked killer confirmed this. He watched as the other was killed and the person holding the camera shook.

"This is my favourite part," their distorted voice said, seemingly excited as the killer walked towards Tom, Jensen's character. The camera shook a little more.

"Will you knock it off with the goddamn video?" a voice in the background asked, obviously aggravated.

The person holding the camera sighed and shifted the camera to themselves, looking into the lens. The room they were in was very dim and messy, most likely a basement, shed or shelter, and the man himself was lanky, probably around Jensen's height. Black, scraggly hair reached the bottom of their sharp jaw and, when they smiled into the camera, a silver cap on their white canine stuck out on somewhat crooked teeth.

"Hi, Jensen," the perked, gray eyes amused. "I want to meet you so badly. I've seen all of your films – TV shows, movies, interviews, and I just want you to know that you've been my idol since I was a teen. Looked up to you. When I saw you at Comic Con last year, best moment of my life!" The was the sound of an annoyed sigh from the other person in the room. "Oh! And this is my friend, by the way." He turned the camera away from him, facing the other man in the room, zooming in on them. They looked in their early twenties, had a bulky stature and did not appear to be amused at their friend's antics. "He's a bit of a grouch, but what are you gonna do? He just wants to hurry up and do this, already." They zoomed in further as their friend sneered at the camera, ducking to get out of its view.

"Come on. Stop fooling around. You said you wanted to do this in short segments," they said as the other, who Jensen assumed to be L.F, the writer of the letter, began to retract the zoom and turn the camera back on himself.

"He's excited," L.F whispered to the camera. "I can't blame him. I'm kind of excited, too. Now! About the box I sent you," he started, walking with the camera and seeming to set it on something, appeared to be a tripod the way he was adjusting it as he stayed in front of it. "Don't open it, yet, if you haven't already. It's not gonna make much sense if you open it before we show you this." He stepped back, still blocking the camera's view of anything behind him as he bent down in front of it. "In honor of your movie, My Bloody Valentine, I wanted to do something to commemorate you for it. It was that movie that inspired this, actually. But, ah!" He waved his hand. "I'm getting ahead of myself." He turned to look over his shoulder. "G, turn on the light so it's visible when I step back." A low watt bulb turned on behind him. "Is it angled right?"

Jensen could see the shadow pattern on the basement walls adjusting as the light was adjusted.

"It is, now," came the response.

"Perfect." L.F turned back to the camera, smiling in an amused way. "Jensen, this is all for you."

When they stood and began walking back, the rest of background was exposed and Jensen found himself angling his screen and narrowing his eyes, trying to make out what it was he was supposed to be looking at. It looked like an old operating table with something strapped down to it. He cocked his head. It looked like a really large mannequin attached with leather binds to the table. At least, he thought whatever it was was fake until he noticed it was breathing.

"Are you sure the light's not fucking up the camera pixilation?" their friend, G, as he had been called, asked as he touched the lamp hovering above the table.

"It's fine." They ducked down underneath the table, seeming to search for something. "Where's the lever to angle this thing?"

"Lower left side," they said, looking down under the table. "See that silver handle? Yeah. Press it and it should release it so we can angle it up." There was a click and an odd groan from the table as it shifted slightly. G pushed on the edge of the table closest to the camera to angle the table at a slight slope, giving the camera a better view of what was on the table.

His heart felt as though it dropped into his stomach and his mouth fell open.

Strapped to the table was Jared, his head and limbs held in place with leather straps. His mouth was crudely taped over with duct tape and the silver seemed to wrap around his head multiple times; his face was bruised and battered, a large gash was over his right eye; he was devoid of all clothing, the only thing covering him was one of the large leather straps going around his groin to keep him in place.

A glint of silver in the hands of L.F caught Jensen's eye and he adverted his attention to that, which ended up being a scalpel. He pointed it at the camera. "Jared pisses me off, Jensen," they said; Jared's half-groggy eyes looked up at him, away from the camera. Whatever it was, he appeared to be out of it. "He acts like he cares about you, but then steals the limelight away all the damn time. If you ask me, that just seems rude." He looked back to G. "I say we start."

The other raised their eyebrows. "What about the others? Shouldn't we wait?"

"Why?" they asked, annoyed at the suggestion.

The other scoffed. "What if they ratted us out?"

At this, the other only laughed. "They're not gonna do that!" The other just stared back at him. "Look. They can't get us for conspiracy, because it's already happened. They're now accessories, so they're looking at the same amount of time we are if they're caught or they say anything."

The other only shrugged. "Fine." He scanned Jared before setting his hand on the actor's lower right side. "You're gonna wanna cut here, by the way. I have no idea what you're after on that side."

"Don't mock me. I'm not a doctor."

For some reason, they both found the saying hysterical and L.F walked to the other side of the table. He bent down over Jared, the scalpel in his hand as he pressed it to the other's upper right quadrant of his abdomen, creating a slice. Vomit rose in the back of Jensen's throat, but he was unable to look away, expression horrified as his co-star's muffled yells filled the speakers of his laptop. In the back of his mind, he was hoping that what he was watching was a sick joke, but as L.F continued, he spoke for the camera.

"So, by now, you're probably figuring out what's in the box," he said, directing the statement towards Jensen.

"Unless he knows shit about anatomy."

There was more laughter filling the cluttered basement, drowning out the other's muffled shouts. "Don't interrupt me," L.F said, though he was trying to keep from chuckling. "As I was saying. Look, Jensen, I'm doing this to prove a point: That you're really better off without this loser and that you truly just don't care what happens to him." He picked the scalpel up and began creating a slice to form a cross. "If you do, you have as long to track him as long as he's still kicking…that is unless he goes into shock beforehand." He stopped and looked up at Jared, whose face was red as pain-filled water streaked his face. "But you'll hold out on me, right, Jare?"

There was the sound of a door opening in the background, which pulled both of their attentions away from their intended victim. "I guess they showed up, after all," G spoke, walking away from the table and walking passed the camera, out of sight. L.F sighed and set the scalpel on an old-wooden table that was pushed against the wall behind the table before moving to follow after his comrade. He stopped and leaned back down in front of the camera.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Jensen Ackles."

That was all he said as he reached around the camera and shut it off, the screen going black.

He continued to stare at the screen in shock, trying to take in what he had just witnessed. Barely even coherent, he slowly turned his attention to the small, heart-shaped box. With a shaking hand, he grabbed the lid's lip and slowly lifted it up. Seeing its contents, he could no longer hold back his will and ended up vomiting on the floor, his laptop falling between the bed and the table.

Inside the box was covered in blood; in the center was a piece of a liver.


I warned you in the beginning! Anyway! I do respond to ALL REVIEWS, so, if you have a question, feel free to ask. Also, if you want to discuss the most recent episode of Supernatural, I'll do that, too! Just let me know what you thought!