Jared sits in the living room, gazing out the big window at his neighbor's house and beyond, but not really seeing any of it. He's tired. Physically, he's tired, hasn't been this tired since they were filming Supernatural, working 16 to 20 hour days. Mentally, he's never been this tired. Jensen's story is buzzing around in his head like a swarm of killer bees, zapping anything and everything that even resembles peace inside his brain. His eyes feel gritty, like half the sand of the California beaches is taking up residence behind his eyelids. His body is numb with exhaustion and his hand is loosely gripping a bottle of beer that he isn't really drinking. Technically it wasn't supposed to be there, and hadn't been. Jared had it hid in his trunk. If he wasn't sure Jensen wasn't going to be awake anytime soon it would still be there. Jared couldn't help but snort at how telling it was of the current state of his life when he felt like he had to hide his own beer, and then felt guilty for even opening one damn bottle.

Outside he saw the neighbor girl run out, blonde pigtails swinging around wildly. He saw her glance to the house and knew that she was wondering about the dogs. She loved them as much as they loved her. Another thing he felt guilty about, no matter how ridiculous it was. They were his dogs. And if he didn't feel right in bringing them home yet, it was his decision. And yet it made the neighbor girl sad so he felt guilty. She was all of 4 and cute as a button so Jared hated seeing her anything but smiling and happy, especially since he'd gotten back from the movie. Probably because smiling wasn't something he did much anymore.

Jared's mind drifted back to when he came out to LA. Flittering around the edges of the memories as if trying to decide if he wanted to bring them out to look at or not. Thinking about them now would hurt, especially after hearing Jensen's tale. At the time he'd been so scared and lonely, filled with doubts that he was good enough to make this work. Yet at the same time he'd been determined to at least try. The argument he'd had with his parents over coming deemed that he give it his best effort if only to save face if he failed. At the time he hadn't been able to imagine anything worse than where he'd been. Friendless, hungry, living in a building that was so far from safe he was almost afraid to close his eyes at night. It had never occurred to him that there were people who had it worse, one more entry on his list of guilt.

Jared was beginning to think it was going to suffocate him pretty soon.

He remembered breaking down and getting a regular job. Busing tables at some all night joint until the night manager found out he'd worked in the kitchen at this place back home and threw him in the kitchen to cook. He remembered how much like a failure he'd felt and yet at the same time he'd loved it there. It hadn't taken long before they'd become his second family, the night waitress treating him like her own son, pinching his cheeks and telling him to eat more of his own cooking. He remembered his excitement after getting the part of Dean and how sad he'd been knowing he'd have to leave his new family. He hadn't been back in awhile, though, only because he hadn't been back to LA for awhile.

The part meant he could move out of his not even close to safe apartment where the water was hardly ever hot and barely managed more than a hair over a trickle in the shower, where the bugs made even HIS skin crawl, and the door could only be securely locked by pushing his dresser in front of it every night (although this didn't keep him safe from the fear of bullets whizzing in through the walls from one of the other apartments, which was why he didn't sleep). Looking back on it now, he knew it hadn't been that bad. He'd had people he could trust if things went really bad, food to fill his belly, a place he could sort of sleep in, and no one had raped him and filled him with drugs, then convinced him it was his choice. No, he hadn't had Jen's life, so all in all, Jared realized that he hadn't had it that bad after all.

He also hadn't had to convince himself abuse was love so he wouldn't feel so lonely.

Thinking about Mike, Jared shivered and put his arms around himself, letting his eyes shut against the tears brought on by his exhaustion and pain. They didn't do much to soothe the grit and the ache though.

"Christ, kid, you're wrecked. I don't know who looks worse, you or Jen." Jared opened his eyes to see Mike towering over him with a light blanket. He placed it on Jared's tall frame sprawled over the couch before sitting in the chair next to it.

"Gee thanks Mikey," Jared drawled, his voice huskier than normal and his accent painfully evident. "Why aren't you sleeping? You must be wiped."

Mike shrugged, letting one side of his lip curl upward slightly. "Can't. Face hurts. Already took some Tylenol, so I can't take more and I don't want anything stronger."

"I'm sorry," Jared said softly mentally ticking off another item of guilt on his list. Mike. He shoulda know. He shoulda stepped in sooner. He shoulda...

"Stop it, Jay." Jared frowned with confusion, then realized he'd said all that out loud. God, he really was tired.

"I'm a big boy, Jared. You did everything you could to help as soon as you knew." Mike leaned forward, studying Jared's hallow eyes and the dark circles underneath. "You aren't responsible for fixing all the bad things in the world, Jay. All you can do is the best you can. It's up to us that fucked it up to fix it and get ourselves out of it."

Jared scowled at the notion, angry at the idea that Jensen was somehow responsible for his hell. When Mike snorted and eyed him sadly, Jared realized he'd again spoken aloud. "I have no doubt what Jen's gone through has been horrific, man. I have no doubt that I don't have the whole story, but what I do know is pretty shitty. However, the fact remains that you HAVE GOT to understand that Jensen IS, at least in part, responsible for where he's at. I know whatever happened to him was wrong, but JENSEN chose how he dealt with it. Jensen chose to give into Tommy. Jensen chose to just go along with Chris. And when you came along, Jensen chose to let you in, let you help. He chose the good and the bad, Jay. You can't steal his blame. And you can't steal your right to be really fuckin' pissed off that he's done this to himself. "

Jared'd looked away during Mike's lecture, but his eyes flew back at the last part. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask how in the hell Mike knew, but his friend's sharp laugh beat him to it. "You think you're the only one who's mad, Jay? Mad at Jensen for doing this to himself? Bullshit! While you may be his savoir, you ain't the only one who's cared over the years. You sure as shit ain't the only one who's ever called himself his friend. "

"You think I ain't pissed off? You think Steve ain't pissed off? Hell, you think that bastard Kane ain't pissed off? Fuck yeah we are. And your bright eyed indignation at it is honestly kind of insulting. Jensen fucked up. Period. End of sentence. Jen. Fucked. Up. The problem is we fucked up too. The problem isn't that we got pissed off that he did this to himself. The problem is that we just gave up on him, like he wasn't anything. The thing that makes you better than us isn't your pretending you AREN'T pissed, Jay. It's that you stuck around pissed off or no because that's what a real friend would do."

Mike shook his head and let his gaze fall to the floor. "You can't keep all this shit inside Jay. It's killing you, same as the drugs are killing him."

Later, Jared would chalk it up to the exhaustion, or the stress of the evening, or the idea that Mike's words were the figurative straw that broke the camel's back. The fact remained that all Jared's pent up pain and fear and guilt and anguish burst through the weak walled dam he'd been holding them in with. "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO TALK TO, MIKEY?" Jared yelled, lunging off the couch as the beer bottle and blanket fall to the floor, causing Mike's head to snap back as his eyes went wide at the six foot five inches of pissed off Texan in front of him.

"TELL ME! WHO THE FUCK WAS I SUPPOSED TO TALK TO? YOU? Oh right, you ditched me to sniff after Tommy's fucked up coattails! Steve? Oh yeah, he bailed too. Tried Christian, but that worked for all of two seconds until his ignorant beer soaked conscience reminded him he was too big of a lazy bastard to care about anything but his next bottle of Bud!"

"What was I gonna do, Mikey? Call my Momma? Say hey Momma, I'm in love with this boy, and I know you always hoped for little Jared grandbabies, but it ain't happening. Did I mention he's trying to kill himself getting high every night? Did I mention all his friends are pricks and have left ME HANGING DRY TO TRY AND DEAL WITH THIS CRAP? Did I mention, Momma, I got NO FUCKIN CLUE WHAT I AM DOING! TELL ME, MIKEY, SERIOUSLY! TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK YOU WANTED ME TO DO THAT I HAVEN'T ALREADY DONE!"

Mike opened his mouth to respond trying to find words in his fear when Jared paced away, picking up a lamp and letting it sail along with a string of curses that would curl a sailor's toes.

"Jay." Mike heard and turned his gaze to see Jensen in the hallways leaning against a wall. Turning his eyes back to Jay, Mike watched somewhat stunned as the tension and anger seemed to just drain out of Jared before he crossed to Jensen and buried his face in his neck.

Feeling an intense gaze locked on him, Mike turned his eyes back to Jensen, seeing him eyeballing him with that protective glint in his eyes that he got when Jared was under fire. "Mike, I know you're trying to help, and really I appreciate it. But could you leave the lectures and tearin' at him 'til he's had some sleep? I know you mean well man, but don't you think I am making this hard enough on him?"

Mike didn't answer right away. He meant to, but he got wrapped up in watching Jared try and curl his way around Jensen's body as Jensen tried to support him and himself too. It was almost like it should be and Mike had to stop a moment so that he could take that in. To look at Jensen you'd think he was on death's door, and Mike supposed that physically he might be, but mentally… with that look in his eyes, the rage over Jared being hurt and the protectiveness of wanting to make sure Mike wasn't going to try it again- it was pretty obvious Jensen wasn't going anywhere.

This revelation brought his eyes back to Jared as he realized what the kid had done. Not even when Jensen had started Smallville and was pretty damned clean was he this alive. Not at any point in his past could Mike remember Jensen having so much fire and passion coloring his eyes. And the only thing that had happened that Mike knew of was Jared. Somehow the kid had stumbled and bumbled his way along, taking all the crap and complaints that everyone threw at him, absorbing all the negativity and the 'you can't do it's' - and managed to do it anyway. Mike wasn't too damn sure Jensen had realized it yet, but it was pretty clear the man wanted to live. Something Mike had NEVER seen in Jensen. Jay'd managed that, too, despite all of the rest of them. Mike remembered thinking Jared would never succeed in helping Jensen. He'd thought that Jared was too damned innocent and naive to understand what needed to be done, too damned soft and loving to do what HAD to be done. Except the part about where apparently he had known and known better than any of the rest of them, because here was Jensen, well along the path he needed to be on to get himself back together.

Not trusting his voice, Mike nodded his agreement to Jensen. He watched him whisper to Jared who carefully lifted Jensen and carried him down the hall, shutting them inside their bedroom. Mike sat where he was for several hours watching some cute little blonde girl play as he re-examined his life and all the things he knew, wondering if Jared had always been this smart and if so, how had they all missed it.

Read the next step Seventh Step: To Be Selfless