All Jared could think of was Jensen, and he was babbling incoherent nonsense when Steve came running up the stairs after him, “Why’s he so pale?  Why isn’t he moving?  Fuck, Jensen?  Jensen!”

He didn’t feel Steve shaking him, and every time Steve tried to detach his hands from Jensen’s unmoving body they just snapped right back to cling to Jensen. To hold on to him anyway he could, because why wasn’t he moving?

“Jared, Jared!”  Steve was shouting at him now, the words mingling together until they sounded like a hazy blur of sound, and Jared wanted to ignore them, he just wanted to hold onto Jensen, wanted to smooth his hands over his pale skin.

“You need to go call 911!” 

The sudden appearance of Chris in the bathroom distracted Jared from his blaring thoughts, and he stood up quickly, head lurching at the sudden change. Black spots danced in front of his eyes momentarily, and then he was grabbing his phone and panting something about his friend…oh god Jensen…and an overdose and…please, we need an ambulance, now.

It all was happening too quickly. Sound and action blurred into one seamless movement, existing outside the Jared’s bubble as he clung to Jensen, watching his face for any signs that he was okay…that he would open his eyes again…

Jared didn’t notice the ambulance arrive, didn’t notice the flashing lights lighting up the dark bathroom with ethereal shades of ice blue and blood red, until the paramedics were pulling him away from Jensen, and speaking in their medical lingo faster than he could keep up.

He just stood at the side of the room, a helpless onlooker, unable to do anything, and just…watching.

The paramedics pressed fingers to Jensen’s neck, listened to his breathing, eyes wide, and conveying important information Jared needed to know. 

“His lips are blue…”

“Breathing’s slow…”

“His heart rate’s slowing…”

“Need a narcotic antagonist…”

“You have the syringe…”

“Administering naltrexone now…”

And on it went; streams of meaningless words that held the fate of his friend, of his…what?  More than his friend?  Jared blinked once, and when he looked back there was a needle in Jensen’s arm, and he couldn’t look at that because it was too similar, too reminiscent, of the seemingly innocent needle mocking him from under the sink.

He imagined the drug coursing through Jensen’s veins, burning away any remnants of the heroin that had corrupted his friend and changed him so much.  He remembered the way Jensen used to be so free and so open, times when they’d shared jokes and stories, and nothing had seemed to get in the way.

Then he’d been altered by something beyond his control, he’d become darker and withdrawn, a different person.  But the man lying on the floor, pale and still, that was still Jensen, and Jared could still save him.  He just needed to open his eyes.

~**~

Jensen felt heavy.  As though, even if he tried to move his arms, they wouldn’t obey, they would just float endlessly in the shimmering darkness surrounding him.

Far off, he heard echoes, shouts and sirens, and pleas. His head felt heavy and, as he drifted in the void around him, he felt, rather than saw or heard, a presence. A comforting hand desperately clinging to his.  The sensation seemed far off, and his consciousness wanted to ignore it, to push away the feeling. 

But there was another part of him that tightened and glowed at the impression this grip had on him, its familiarity.

Then there was the far off feeling of something blazing through him, and in the darkness, he felt as if he was lighting up.  The heady sensation of weight slowly lifted, and it was as if the volume was being turned up on the world. Slowly he raced to the surface of the deep void, finally breaking through to air, and light, and life.

He blinked at the unfamiliar faces staring down at him with serious eyes, and coughed, wincing and biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as sensation came back to him, and his stomach rolled in agony. 

One of the paramedics helped him to sit up, and held out a bucket, just in time for him to throw up the remains of the corruption still inside him.  Blazing, furious pain attacked him, and confusion swam in his head as he struggled to suck in air, to breathe.

Finally, after what seemed like years of agony, the blackness receded slightly, the spots stopped dancing in front of his eyes, and he could focus on his surroundings.  On Jared.

“Jay…” his voice was hoarse, and his throat was fucking raw, stripped bare by the acid.

Jared looked him straight in the eyes. He showed him the pain and the fear, and Jensen had never felt more open and exposed in his life as he leant heavily back against the wall, ignoring whatever warnings the paramedic was spewing out at him.

He was alive.  That was enough.

~**~

Jared felt like he was going to fucking collapse or something.  Jensen was alive, he’d opened his eyes, and now he was looking at Jared, honesty exuding from him, and a trembling awareness plain on his countenance.  He was afraid…of something, of Jared and his reaction.

Jared swallowed and looked away, unable to see the his friend’s vulnerability, it wasn’t fucking right, Jensen didn’t deserve this.  Jared now had his suspicions as to why he’d started this, but all along there’d always been two people who’d given Jensen that little extra nudge.

And they were in the same fucking room as him.  Not a good place to be when Jared was displacing his fear and anxiety, and churning it slowly into a slow heating rage.

Steve was talking quietly in hushed tones with the paramedics just outside the bathroom, and Chris was standing awkwardly next to Jensen, nervously eyeing the needle, shouting it’s presence from against the wall.

He straightened up when he felt Jared’s stare on him, and turned to face him, “I think…”

He was cut off as Jared stepped forward, fists trembling, and jaw clenched with the anger that consumed him, “This is your fault.”

Chris’s eyes widened, and he automatically stepped back, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture, “What?”

Jared bit his lip and looked away, trying to collect his thoughts, but all he saw was Jensen, pale and weak, staring up at them with wide eyes, struggling to breathe, struggling to live. That image was enough to make Jared swing his fist, hard, right into Chris’s fucking face, wiping the astounded expression right off it.

He stumbled backwards at the blow, clutching his nose and blinking back tears of pain, “What the fuck Jared?!”

Steve entered the scene, to see Jared blowing on his knuckles and hissing at the pain, and Chris trying to stop the flow of blood erupting from his nose.

“Uh…”

“He fucking punched me!”  Chris cried, “I didn’t do anything. Jared, what the hell man?!”

Jared licked his lips and stood firm, “You deserved it.  Sorry, but you did.  Now if you don’t mind, I’m gonna take Jensen back to my house.”

Chris and Steve looked from him to Jensen, studying their friend carefully.  Jensen knew they wanted past the surface of his emotions, and he let them see, let them in because, after everything, they were still his friends, and deserved to know he was going to be in good hands.

Steve nodded shortly, and Chris muttered, “Fine.”

“You can take my car,” Steve offered weakly, and tossed the keys at him.  Jared smiled, a genuine smile, shadowed with relief.

As soon as he attempted to help Jensen up, it became pretty clear that it wasn’t going to happen, so Jared just picked him up and carried him down the stairs to deposit him in the car ignoring Jensen’s weak murmurs of protest at the manhandling.  He was just heading for the driver’s seat when the paramedics approached him, not having left yet.

“You his boyfriend, a good friend, someone he trusts?”  One of them asked bluntly.

Jared started at the sudden invasion into his personal space, and backed away a step or two, “I’m someone he trusts.  Why?”

A number of leaflets were presented to him, and the other paramedic sent a cursory nod in his direction, and started rattling off what sounded like a rehearsed speech for these situations, “If he’s a heroin addict, or a recovering addict who needs support, you should make sure he gets professional help.  Here’s some information on local clinics, and the numbers of people who can help you with any further inquiries you might have.”

Jared automatically took the leaflets, not really thinking about it until they reached his house, and he had to force a whimpering Jensen to move and get out of the car, as he shivered and groaned in pain.

Maybe it was what he needed?  What they both needed?

~**~

The next days passed for Jensen in a series of fitful dreams and waking nightmares.  The withdrawal was bad enough, but on top of the aftershocks of his overdose small thoughts that it would have been easier just to die whispered through his brain.  Jared tended to him as best he could in the situation, but watching Jensen toss and turn, sweating and moaning in agony, was unsettling him.

He hated that all this was beyond his control, that he could do nothing, but stand by uselessly.

There were moments where Jensen was awake and lucid, and Jared found himself trying to avoid those, because he had no idea what he could say.  What Jensen wanted him to say, and all the things that he, himself, felt he had to express.

However, four days later he was already half way across the bedroom carrying a glass of water, intending to set it down quietly beside Jensen, and back away, when he realised Jensen was awake and sitting up in the bed.

“Jay,” Jensen whispered his name, but in the silent oppression of the house, it sounded louder than a shout.

Jared flinched at the shock and said, “Jeez, Jen, you scared me.”

There was an awkward silence, as both tried to find something, anything, to say.  Jared took the initiative, and sat down on the edge of the bed, turning to face Jensen.

“So…I think…we should probably talk,” He started hesitantly.

Jensen licked his lips nervously, and looked away quickly, eyes darting to and fro around the room, “Jared…I…”

Jared held up a hand, determined to be the one to speak first or he knew he’d just lose his nerve, “No, let me speak.  I…fuck Jensen!  You didn’t give me a chance to respond, you just…walked out.  That wasn’t…wasn’t how I wanted it to go down, not how I’d imagined…that to happen to be honest.  Then, you know, there was the whole you almost killing yourself thing and…”

Jared trailed off weakly, realising he was starting to ramble, and only noticed then that Jensen was looking him straight in the eye, confusion written over his face, but there, in his eyes, hope?

“You....imagined it?”

Jared blinked, and then realised what Jensen was asking, “Jen,” he leaned forward, resting a hand on Jensen’s thigh cautiously, and moving ever closer.  Then, instead of replying, he quickly closed the distance between them, pressing a wary kiss against Jensen’s lips.

Jensen froze, and Jared wasn’t sure whether to take that as a good sign or not. He hadn’t, however, moved away or made any noises of disgust, and Jared just had to go with his instinct here, because he really, really thought Jensen wanted this.

He flicked his tongue hesitantly against Jensen’s lips, and then suddenly it was as if the floodgates had opened.  Jensen grasped his arms tightly and moved against him, opening his mouth, making it Jared’s to explore.  Jared moaned, deep in his throat, the taste and feel of Jensen’s mouth so foreign, yet familiar all at once.

They were at quite an awkward angle, and Jared eventually had to break away reluctantly, running his tongue over his lips, tasting Jensen.

“Fuck…Jen…”  He watched as Jensen sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, seemingly having the same experience as Jared, at least going by the expression on his face. Rapture, and incredulity, and passion.

“Are you…serious about this Jay?  Because I can’t…”  I can’t be an experiment, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t.  He didn’t want to voice his fears.

Jared gently pulled his arms away from Jensen’s tight grip, and pulled his friend into a hug, offering safety, and comfort, and home. He whispered into Jensen’s ear, hot breath tingling, “I am.  I’m so fucking serious Jen.  I’ve wanted this for so long.  I’ve wanted you.”

Jensen shivered in anticipation, feeling a warmth flip in his stomach.  It was this moment he’d been waiting for, and finally, finally, it was his. 

 
‘And when it's dark it's night, the flip side of delight.
So, if, in fact, it can't be wrong, well then it must be right.’

-          Blue Oyster Cult ‘Spy In The House Of The Night’

Feedback is always appreciated!  As is the obligatory towel!scene with Jensen or Jared =]