"Guess who's back with a brand new chap? I got everybody in the words rollin' back!"

Yeah. This took WAY longer than I thought. -bows- SO BLOODY SORRY! ;-; I got caught up in Avengers-related stuffs and sketching. And I noticed that when I draw, I don't typically write. The good news is that chapter five is already well underway and should be up with a week or so. I've got finals coming up for summer classes and taking 3 of those classes online hasn't been helping my writing muse. Because I've been on the computer doing those, I've not wanted to spend more time on the computer.

Makes sense, right?

OKAY! Let me respond to some of you, in particular ebonylovesdeanandsam, to whom I want to say, IN YOUR FACE! Because of your hate, it made me want to upload this all that much more. A giant middle finger to you, my dear homophobe! =^-^= C. Jane Wright (by the way, is your name a pun? Lol), by seeing interviews and gag reels, Jensen's true character strikes me as someone who just likes to have fun, but can be serious if need be. In this...he's been kind of a coward. Lol. Like...scared of what's going to happen and just concerned for Jared's well-being. At least...that's what I was trying to portray. Ha ha~

Enjoy after the disclaimer!

Disclaimer: I own this fabulously dark and twisted plot! But...that's it.

4. Too Close – Can't Tell

Jensen's hand subconsciously gripped around the scalpel he still had hidden in his sleeve as his eyes watched the familiar form of the one referred to as G walk around one of the tables in the room – his expression oddly calm. The actor's heart pounded in his chest, his eyes not trailing from the man he had only seen through a screen. The man kept his fingers tracing the table that separated them, looking at the items placed on it and grabbed a small cube-like object, focusing on it as he finally spoke.

"See, I knew we should have cut the bastard's tongue out." He sent an off smirk as he glanced up at Jensen, whose jaw was firmly clenched. A tremble ran through him, his voice stuck in his throat as G walked around the table and he continued to play with the object. He glanced over his shoulder, as though expecting someone to walk in, and then exhaled a chuckle, shaking his head. "You're smarter than I thought, so doubt you came by yourself." He locked eyes with Jensen's, who was still unable to move, body shaking. "I'll never understand why," he muttered.

At that moment, G threw the object he had been holding at Jensen's head, who immediately, darted off to the side, leaving the object to crash against the wall on the other end of the table. Taking advantage of the moment, G lunged and tackled Jensen to the ground, making his head hit against the metal leg to the operating table and leaving the scalpel the actor had been holding to fall out of his sleeve and clink to the cement floor. White light flashed in front of his eyes, stunned as he tried to recover. He could feel movement move across him and he blinked and shook his head, sight recovering just in time to see the scalpel he had been holding move towards him. He jerked back, getting sliced across the face as he rolled to the side.

"Get off me!" he shouted, kicking G in the chest as he lunged forward again. He scrambled to get to his feet and grabbed the table to pull himself up. Still disoriented, his hands scattered some of the items on the operating tray and he grabbed whatever his fingers could clasp. What felt like scissors were in his hand and he jerked back around to make a slashing motion towards G, who was trying to do the same with the scalpel. G dodged both attempts and was able to grab Jensen around the jaw and neck with one arm as the other was trying to press the scalpel to his face. With an odd grunt-like shout, Jensen brought up the scissors and jammed them, point-down into G's upper shoulder.

The man released a yell and let go of Jensen to fight with getting the scissors out of his skin. As he fought with that, Jensen's focus turned to Jared and his hands, shaking violently, worked with the straps his ally's wrists were bound with. He was only able to get one free and he heard G stumble into the table. Just as he turned so as not to keep his back to the offender, a sickening crack shot through his arm as he brought it up to block a metal pole that G had somehow acquired.

An estranged cry left his throat as he felt the bone snap.

Instinct had him curl to the side and cradle his arm, face twisted in pain, but the fear of having that same object slam against his skull had enough adrenaline run through him to duck down and shoulder the other in the chest, having them fall back against the metal table. He shifted away from the small space between the two tables, eyes stinging as pain shot through his arm and shoulder.

A sudden pain in his back had him fall forward, crashing through the plastic curtains that led to the room he had come through. He groaned and turned onto his side, gasping from the pain radiating all down his spine where he had been hit. He saw the shadowed figure of G standing over him, the light to his back, making him unable to see his face. His heart pounded viciously in his chest: he was going to die.

As he saw G lift the pole up, Jensen tried one last time and aimed a kick to the guy's knees, but G sidestepped, his arm coming down.

"NO!"

A strangely familiar voice shot through the room following a loud bang that sounded like a metal door swinging open and hitting a wall. Jensen rolled off to the side just as L.F dived at G, tackling him to the ground, where he began bashing his hand holding the rusted pole against the floor.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" G shouted back between the clangs of metal.

L.F managed to get the pipe away from him and used it against him. He pulled it up before bringing it down against G's head. "Don't you fucking hurt him!"

Jensen released another groan as he practically crawled away from the two and tried to get to his feet. Regaining at least some of his senses, he stumbled back towards the table that Jared was strapped to, his unbroken arm fumbling with the straps around his costar's ankles. Still listening to the quarreling duo on the ground, he moved as quickly as he could to unbind the other, still calling out Jared's name to get some response.

His attention jerked towards the same direction as footsteps flooded the room, followed by a loud voice: "Sir, put the weapon down!"

Jensen's eyes squinted in the direction of a set of flashlights, all which were focused on L.F and G, though the latter was incapacitated. L.F seemed to be frantic by this point, black hair awry and eyes wild. His gaze shot from the officials in the room to the bloodied mess of his ally beneath him. As though realizing what he had done, he dropped the pipe, which clanged on the floor, and stared back up as two of the officials moved in to pull him off.

"You don't understand," L.F said as he was shoved to the ground and handcuffed. "He was going to hurt him – I had to stop him." His voice was oddly calm, sounding like he could not understand what he did wrong. As he was pulled to his feet, one of the officials checked on G, whose head was battered and face nearly unrecognizable. As he was pulled to his feet, one of the officials, who appeared to be an EMS personnel, crossed into the room with two others. As one, a young female, grabbed Jensen to pull him off to the side to allow her coworkers to tend to Jared and the unconscious offender on the ground, he jerked to stay back, but was too caught up in the commotion and let her pull him off. At that same time, Misha broke through the group of officials, eyes wide at the scene he witnessed.

He ran over to Jensen, calling his name, but stopped short when his eyes landed on their bound costar.

"Jensen!" L.F shouted when he saw the actor as he was jerked to a stand by the officers around him; his face was lit up, wild excitement blanketing his face as he tried to pull away from the grips of the police officers. "I did this for you, Jensen! It was all for you!" His body jerked, but the hold the officials had on him did not falter – Jensen could only stare at him in disgusted shock, not even aware of the medic trying to bind his arm with a makeshift splint. "Please! I love you! Can't you see that?"

"Can you get him to shut up?" one of the investigators said as L.F was forced out of the room, his voice disappearing.

Jensen's attention went back to the EMS personnel removing the rest of the constraints from Jared's extremities. Taking the lapse in the personnel's restraint of him, Jensen ducked away to move to Jared; the official tried to call him back. The EMS were too concerned with trying to shift Jared's body without causing more pain and damage, so they gave no heed to the other standing next to him with his hand on Jared's forehead. Jared's eyes were still distant, blankly staring at Jensen, who was trying to force a reassuring smile though his bloodshot eyes and creasing brow line. He caught movement as G was moved out of the room and his ears tuned in and out of what the personnel were saying about Jared's condition. He caught the words "infections," "rectal trauma," and "shock."

"Sir, please step back," one of them spoke as they nearly pushed Jensen out of the way.

He could only watch as they tried to move him onto a stretcher and, once he was on it, cover him with a sheet, leaving only his shoulders and head visible. The woman Jensen had gotten away from was now next to him, telling him that he needed to be taken to the hospital. He did not refuse and followed her out of the room, going back into the underground passageway with Misha not far behind.

-o-o-o-o-

Voices flooded the hallway of the hospital, blending together and turning into nonsense chatter. An occasional beep would be followed by nurses rushing to a room, once in a while calling for a crash cart. With his face patched up and broken arm in a cast and sling, Jensen had gone from sitting in the bed he had been given within the hospital to sitting on the benched windowsill across the hall from the glassed-in room Jared was being held in. His coworker had already been in and out of surgery, trying to repair the damage that had been done. They were able to reinsert his kidney, but only because it had not been out that long and they got it into ice almost immediately upon finding it. The trauma performed to his rectum was more difficult, but they were able patch him up and now he had something or other (Jensen did not know the name of it) being used to keep it from getting infected.

Currently, Misha was down at the police station giving a witness statement and they had L.F, who they discovered his real name to be Lance Fullen, in custody and G (better known as Gregory Harlett) in lockdown in a guarded room somewhere in the hospital. It made Jensen physically ill to know that bastard was even in the same building as them, but his concern for Jared overrode all of that. Eight hours after Jared was out of surgery, he finally came-to and, at first, had no idea what was going on or what had happened. The doctors suspected amnesia due to the psychiatric trauma and his brain was trying to protect the well-being of the body, but, shortly after, he began panicking and wound up having a seizure.

He recovered, but was then on sedation.

The only reason Jensen was still being held was because when G – Gregroy – hit him in the back with the pipe, it cracked his vertebrae. There was nothing they could do, other than keeping packs on it to ease the pain (though the medication they had him on took care of that). Well, there was the fact that he had a concussion from hitting his head and they were monitoring his condition, but he chose to ignore that; though it was difficult to ignore the constant ringing in his ears and the nausea.

Jensen stared blankly into the room, his mind drifting with his good arm set on his knee and hand holding his chin. One thing he could not understand was how two people were able to cause so much damage in less than twenty-four hours – hell, it had hardly even been twelve. And over and over, he was kicking himself for not accompanying Jared to the airport. He had thought that, maybe if he had, it either would not have happened, or only he, Jensen, would have been the one abducted and, since it was obvious that L.F would not have harmed him….

The thoughts were overwhelming and he wiped a stray drop that fell down his face.

He inhaled and sat back when a familiar face was seen walking down the hallway with a coffee cup in each hand; their heels clicked on the tile. He gave a forced smile and accepted the plastic cup as Danneel sat down next to him, crossing her left leg over her right as she peered into the room across the hall. She exhaled and turned to look at her husband, who was staring down at the steam billowing up from the cup. When he continued to just stare at it for a few minutes, Danneel sat back, leaning against the window, drawing Jensen's eyes.

"He'll recover, you know."

When she just saw him nod, she held her own cup with both hands, looking back into the room.

"I hope so." Back to facing the coffee. For the next moment, they just listened to the people around them – Danneel with her gaze staring into Jared's room and Jensen avoiding doing that same thing by seeming strangely interested in his drink. He was thankful for his wife coming up, taking time off from filming to stay with him, but, at the same time, he just wanted to be left alone. That and, for some reason, he found himself growing upset with Genevieve for not coming up to be with her own husband – then he kicked himself for realizing she did not even know.

How could she? She was on a plane when everything went down and the shooting location her and the rest of the film crew were in was hit by some electrical storm, knocking out communication (the news had been reporting similar stories in all different parts of the country).

Quite a nasty shock for her when she would find out.

"I don't—" Danneel turned her head to look at him when he spoke, but he cut himself off before changing the sentence to: "He didn't deserve this," he said, half-whispering, as though he was merely thinking aloud. "I mean…how the hell does this crap even happen?" He inhaled and stared up, passed the room and towards the ceiling, eyes shining as he tried to keep himself composed. "He's a – a goddamn six-foot-four, two-hundred and thirty pound man. How the fucking hell do two guys – one that can't weigh more than one-fifty – abduct a fucking bus and no one notices?" He was now looking at her, his composure failed as drops streaked his face. "And it's not like he doesn't know how to fight! Why didn't he just beat the shit out of them?" Anger flooded his tone, though the remorse was painfully obvious. Seeing the expression his wife was giving him, he jerked his attention away from her and back towards the room, though he was not too bent on staring there, either. "He's not a fighter – I get it! I do! But all he had to do was – goddamn it! Why the fuck is he such a goddamn pussy?"

Danneel, setting her cup down, brought her arms up around him, allowing him to set his head against her shoulder and chest as he broke down.

It was the first time he vented, everything coming out in one mass flood.

"Why wasn't I there, Danny?" She just rubbed his back, not answering the rhetorical question.

It was a little while before Jensen was able to calm down, and he became quiet shortly after, locking himself in and shutting everyone else out. Danneel had taken him back to his room, but he was not bent on staying there long. When she left later on that evening, after he convinced her that he would be fine and she should go back to the hotel and rest, he left his room to walk the halls of the hospital, nodding whenever he passed by a nurse. As it grew into the night, patients (including himself) were confined to their rooms, which only had him grow bored and aggravated. He was not even able to turn on the television to get his mind off of everything: the constant switching scenes made him feel dizzy and, when the nurse had turned it on for him early that day, he wound up vomiting.

By now, the media had caught wind of what had happened, though not the full story, and just reported that the "stars of Supernatural were currently being hospitalized after a vicious attack by obsessed fans" – as they had been quoted. The downplay had him somewhat relieved. There was no reason for the public to be made aware. It was not something they needed to deal with on top of everything else.

When the only thing he had entertaining him was the clicking of the clock on the far wall, he sat up and threw the sheets off of him, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. With his elbows on his knees, he ran his hands through his hair and shut his eyes, allowing the feeling of vertigo to pass. He looked up as his hands set on the back of his neck, making a quick glance to the clock. Eleven at night and the halls outside were at an eerie quiet. Scenario after scenario ran through his head, not only of what could have happened, but what might happen, now. Jared could wake up, have another panic attack and send him into a coma. The scenario was all too real and it had Jensen's pulse quicken. Making the decision, he got off of the bed and opened the glossed-wooden door to look out into the halls. There was a nurse walking down with a cart holding medical supplies and he watched her pass; she sent him a smile and nod as she did. Moving out into the hall, he left the door slightly open as he went the opposite direction, towards the ICU Recovery Ward. He took the stairs instead of the elevator, knowing that he would be taken back to his room if he were caught being up after hours.

The stairwell dropped him off on the first floor near a nurse's station, which he made sure to avoid as he went around it. The fountain in the lobby was still running, white LED lights shining underneath the water, flooding it with the sound of calm water around all of the decorative plant life. The security guard was talking with the woman and man running the front desk, which made for a great distraction as he slipped by them to duck into the hall leading to the Emergency Room. He could hear voices come over an intercom as he got closer, but veered off to the recovery ward, which was deathly quiet (pun intended?). Even in that ward, the nurses were talking amongst themselves, not paying any attention to their surroundings – and probably only would if an alarm went off or a patient required their medications – making it easy for him to pass them and go towards the room Jared was being kept in.

All of the blinds were shut, so, once he went in, he did not have to worry about being seen.

For a moment, he just stared at his costar's unconscious form; his badly beaten face and bruised wrists were the only things visible, his arms being on top of the sheets covering the rest of his body. Inhaling, he walked around to the edge of the bed, rooting himself in the chair and scooting it as close as he could get. Trying not to have a reoccurrence of earlier, he took another deep inhale and wiped his face before setting his uninjured hand on Jared's left hand and wrist. Leaning down, he laid his forehead on the back of his hand, feeling Jared's pulse.

He had found himself praying that the amnesia Jared had experienced would have been permanent. There was no reason for him to have to remember all of this. There was no reason for this to have happened at all. This was something that happened in books or horror films, not something that happened to real people in real life. Why could it not have been on long nightmare? If only Jared would not remember anything - it would have been so much easier to handle.

He set his hand on the side of Jared's head, pushing his hair back.

"Hey, there, Sasquatch." His voice was hardly above a whisper, a slight rattle to his vocals. "You missed Danny, earlier. She came to see how you're doing." He forced an odd smile to his face, shaking his head as an awkward laugh come out of his throat. "I've been trying to talk to you and…I know it's probably pointless, but I – I want you to know I'm sorry." Water slipped from his ducts and he ran his hand down his face before returning it to where it sat on Jared's head. Another strange and airy laugh. "I don't even know what I'm apologizing for, you know? I'm sorry this happened? I'm sorry I didn't go with you? I'm just…I'm sorry." He exhaled and shook his head. "So fucking sorry."

Taking his hand back, he wiped his face one more time, kept his broken arm on his lap and laid his head on the edge of the bed, eyes half open as he continued to hold Jared's hand with his good hand and listen to the sound of the nasal cannula and the IV drip. He stopped worrying if someone walked in, whether to just check on Jared's status or refill the drip; he just wanted to stay with him. And as the thought of one of the freaks being in the hospital with them crossed his mind, his grip on Jared's hand tightened and made his will to stay that much more.

And...like I said, chapter five is nearly done. Next week or so - I SWEAR! If I didn't lose people...which I'm pretty sure I have. ._.