Author's note:

So here is the promised second half! I had most of it finished when I posted the first half; I just couldn't find a better place to chop it than where I did. So sorry about the little cliffhanger; that wasn't really intentional. Enjoy!

A Different Perspective

Chapter 2: Still Jared's Perspective

Jared let himself be dragged along, out of the room and down empty and dark hallways, his thoughts far away. What the hell had he stumbled into? Was this even real? Why was he letting himself be taken away by these serial killers? But then again, they seemed the favorable option in comparison to the unkillable things. Maybe he was going insane. Stuff like this didn't happen, couldn't happen. He was vaguely aware as they burst through the back doors and out into an alley way. He barely saw the black car before they were at it. He was shoved in the back seat, and two things were dropped in his lap before the door slammed. Sam and Dean leaped in the front seat, and Dean had the car turned on and was flooring it in what seemed like record time. Jared looked down and realized with horror that the things that had been dumped in his lap were the heads. He quickly shoved them off on to the floor on the far side of the car, as he shuddered.

"W-what the hell were those things?" Jared almost yelled. He was still shaking, but he couldn't help it.

"Those were Leviathans," Sam replied, in a gentle tone. "They're, uh, monsters. We, um, hu-"

"Sam! We don't have time to talk to Mr. Terrified. They probably followed us. They still could be following us." Dean was speaking fast, and his voice had an undercurrent of something that Jared couldn't place. "How could they have followed us? Did you use a credit card?" His tone was commanding, leaving no room for argument. Jared's head swam. Monsters? This was turning out to be the worst night of his life. He felt as if he had stepping into a country were everyone was speaking a different language. What the hell was going on?

"No! Of course not!" Sam replied, somewhat indignant. "So what's the plan?" The brothers totally ignored Jared, and by the tone of their voices, it was urgent; more urgent than the problem of having practically kidnapping someone.

"We gank the dragon and get the hell out of this town as fast as possible." Dean replied, his eyes focused on the road and his hands gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"But how? We don't know where it lives."

"Well, we know approximately."

"Well, what are we going to do with him?" Sam pointed to Jared in the backseat.

"I don't know; we can't exactly take him with us."

"Yeah, but we can't leave him on his own either. The question is, which one is less risky."

"What the hell is-" Jared started demanding, not liking how the brothers were talking about him as if he wasn't there.

"Shut up!" They shouted in unison, before they were back to talking hurriedly. Jared hunched down in the seat, and stared out the window instead. They were flying through town, barely slowly down around corners. He didn't even know where they were heading, but they were at least driving 30 miles over the speed limit. The fact that he didn't know where he was going, with people he didn't know, after witnessing them killing something he'd never even heard of before, should have worried him more than it was. He was probably in shock. When it hit him, he would probably be a wreck.

"I say we take him with us. We do have Bobby as back up, so it would really be three taking sets of eyes looking out for him."

"But we're putting his life in danger if we take him with us."

"He's already in danger with or without us." Sam pointed out.

After a moments pause, Dean replied, "Fine," in a terse manner. Both of the brothers looked very tense and keyed-up; their shoulders were stiff, and they were sitting in a very proper manner, looking around often. After a few minutes of tense silence, with the only noise the purr of the engine and squeal of tires as they tore around yet another corner, Sam reached over and brushed some of the blood trickling down Dean's face, off and looked at it. "How did this happen?" He asked as he wiped his fingers on his jeans.

"The Leviathan's tongues are barbed, kind of like a cat's, but much sharper." He replied softer than last time he'd spoken. Jared shifted in his seat, feeling supremely uncomfortable, like he was watching one of their 'private moments.'

The next few minutes in the car passed silently, and before Jared knew it, they were stopping in some dark, empty alley way. Why did it always have to be dark and empty? Did he want to follow these strangers? As it turned out they didn't give him much of a choice. The taller one yanked him out of the car and shut the door, still keeping a firm grip on his arm. Dean opened the trunk and pulled up a fake bottom. Underneath was an arsenal of weapons. Pretty much any weapon you could ever want or need, they had it, and then some seemingly useless things like some sticks and crosses.

"Fuck." He heard himself mutter. Of course, had he expected anything different out of killers? He just didn't think he'd live to see it. He couldn't believe the range of weapons, and everything in pairs. It made sense though, have two of everything, so each brother could have one. There were even some strange symbols drawn on the inside of the trunk. Jared didn't recognize any of them, though they looked cult-ish. Great, just add occult worshiper to the list of crazy that they already were. Dean ignored him and pulled out a sword, or rather, half of a sword; the top was snapped off. Who the hell even had swords anymore, let alone used them? Crazy people, that's who. Dean also grabbed two flashlights and tossed one to Sam who caught it neatly in his left hand. The shorter man shut the trunk and locked it before striding off down the alley way, apparently looking for something on the ground.

What he was looking for as it turned out, was a manhole cover. When he found it, he pried it up and shifted it to the side before putting his flashlight in his pocket and swinging his legs in, and starting to climb down carefully, with the sword still tightly in his grip. "You've got to be kidding me," Jared said, looking back at Sam as he was pushed toward the dark gaping hole. What the hell were they even going to do down there?

"Look, if you don't want to die tonight, do everything we say," Sam deadpanned. Jared gulped and started climbing down the rungs. There was no light even, since both brothers didn't flick on their flashlights due to need of them for climbing down. The rungs were cold and felt slimy in his hands, and the farther Jared climbed, the warmer it got. He was glad when he heard footsteps followed by a click of a light. He looked down and could see Dean not a few feet below him, standing off to the side looking around the tunnel they had found themselves in, with his flashlight. When he reached the bottom, he stepped aside to make room for Sam and looked around him.

The tunnel was large enough that they didn't have to duck, but it was fairly small. The sides were damp, but thankfully not wet, and green stuff was growing on the walls. The air smelled musky and stale so deep under the surface. Dean's flashlight revealed that the tunnels looked like a labyrinth, as tunnels connected to the tunnel they were standing in and curved out of sight. Another click signaled that Sam was ready to go, and they started forward.

Sam nudged Jared, and he took it to mean that he would be stuck between the two brothers for the duration of their little trek. A few turns in and Jared was already lost down here. The Winchesters shone their flashlights down every tunnel they came across, clearly looking for something. What they could be looking for in the sewers was a mystery to Jared though. Eventually they came across a pile of golden things; rings, watches, chains. Dean gave a meaningful glance toward Sam, and Jared wondered what that was about. Dean leaned down and scooped a big handful which he stowed away in a pocket inside his leather jacket. Sam followed suit, and Jared wondered if they would care if he did so as well. He decided better of it, what if this was where they stashed their stolen goods?

They were hurrying now, and it was starting to get warmer. Jared wasn't sure if it was because they picked up the pace, or it really was getting warmer down here. The temperature kept rising and Jared started sweating; a quick glance showed him that Sam and Dean were too. Up ahead, it was starting to get lighter. The Winchesters turned off their flashlights and slowed down, moving silently now. A faint voice could be heard, but words couldn't be made out. They rounded a corner and a large, circular room greeted them. A few crudely made cages stood on one side, with three teenagers huddled at the back. A bunch of candles were lit all around the edge of the room, giving off light and minimal heat. In the center of the room stood a tall man, wearing a long black coat. A naked teen was at his feet begging, tears streaming down his face. The tall man had a tight grip on the teen's wrists, and Jared could see claws protruding from the digits.

Sam silently slid in front of Jared, placing a hand on his chest and pushing slightly. Jared thought that it meant, 'stay back,' and he was more than happy to comply. The brothers slowly crept forward, spreading out as they did so. They were about a quarter of the way in the room when the captive teen spotted them, and his glancing eyes gave them away. The man twirled around. He snarled when he saw them, and as he did so, Jared could see fangs glistening in his mouth. He dropped the young man's wrists, and he scrabbled back as far as he could. The stranger advanced on the brothers, his eyes glowing a strange red-orange with a black slit pupil prominent in the middle of them and his hands started glowing a bright red. Jared's eyes widened; he could see heat curling off them. The strange man's eyes flicked to the ruined sword that Dean was carrying and asked, "What's that?" his eyes narrowing as he did so. The man had a strange way of talking; he lengthened his 's' sounds. A strange speech impediment to have.

"Oh, you know, just a sword. I heard you need one to kill a dragon." Dean spoke casually, but his body was anything but. He was tense and ready to spring.

"Oh, well, good luck," the man rumbled in response.

The man made the first strike, leaping forward, his right hand extended. Dean dodged to the side and swung the blade, which bit in to the left hand that was reaching for him. The blade sunk in to flesh and the man screamed and leaped back, cradling his arm. Strange orange cracks ran up and down from the wound, which glowed a brilliant almost yellow orange.

"Where did you get that?" The man asked, partially angry and partially amazed.

"Just our friendly pawn shop," Dean answered cheekily. Sam was steadily creeping around the edge of the room, trying to get behind the man, with a crowbar in his grip. He must have picked it up along the way, since he didn't have it when they were climbing down into the sewers. The man roared, actually roared, before he charged Dean again. This time he was more cautious, and he caught the broken blade tip as Dean swung it to hit his torso. The man hissed as he held the blade, and Jared could see more orange cracks forming on his skin. With his other hand, he struck at Dean. He leaped back as much as he could while still holding on to the sword, but evidently it wasn't enough because Dean screamed, and a few seconds later, Jared could smell burning flesh. Sam rushed up from behind him and hit him in the head with all his might using the crowbar. It loosened the tall man's grip on the blade and Dean jerked back, one hand pressed to his burn.

Jared blinked and almost missed it. One moment Sam was preparing for another blow and the next moment he was flying across the room to smash into the sewer walls. Jared could have sworn he saw large, leathery bat wings fling Sam off his feet. He blinked again, and the man was lunging across the room at Dean, trying to take his moment of distraction as an opportunity. Dean stumbled back, just barely dodging the man's red hands before he lunged forward himself, slashing at the man's chest. He caught the taller man across the side in a long gash. The taller man screamed and flared bright orange for a moment. Dean leaped in a last time and plunged his sword into the man's chest, disregarding the burning hands that grasped at him. The man shrieked and burned a bright orange colour, before flames were spreading from his wounds. The fire covered him completely and he burned up, leaving no trances of anything.

Jared rubbed his eyes. He was positive he wasn't on acid or drugs, but he could have sworn that the man Dean had been fighting had wings, claws, and fangs. Right now, all Jared wanted was for this day to be over. He wanted to wake up in his bed and remember this as a crazy and improbable dream. He glanced back to Dean to find him staring at the sword which he had dropped on the floor, shoulders slumped, chest heaving for breath as his hands pressed against his wounds. He waited a moment before he walked over to Sam to help him stand. He wobbled a little, and balanced himself against the wall. The naked teenager was slowly standing up, looking quite unsure of himself. Once Sam was standing, Dean hurried over to the cage and after a moment of fiddling with it, unlocked it and swung the door open. The males in the cage all looked at him in amazement.

"Come on, we don't have all day," He said gruffly as he turned and walked away. He picked up the sword and walked toward Jared, who was still standing in the same place; he had been rooted to the spot since the fight started. From fear or amazement, he couldn't tell. Dean led the way, and Jared trailed after the battered males, wondering why the naked one had to walk right in front of him. He could hear Sam's footsteps behind him and the clicks as flashlights were turned on. They wound their way back through the sewers and Jared wondered how the brothers knew where to go. They finally reached the manhole that they came from and began the climb up.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when they all climbed out of the hole. Sam shut it after he got out, and the boys looked around the empty alley. Dean walked over to his car and open the trunk to stow the sword away. He quickly opened the side door and pulled out the heads and tossed them in as well, shutting the trunk before the boys could see what was inside. He had retrieved a blanket from the trunk, and handed it to the naked teen. He gratefully wrapped it around his shoulders, and clutched it close to him.

Dean waved his hand toward the car, and the boys tumbled in, one in the front between Sam and Dean and three crammed in the back with Jared. It would be his luck to end up next to the naked one. At least he was wearing a blanket. As the car rumbled to life, Dean spoke, "We're taking you to the police station. For your own benefit, don't mention us or what you witnessed down in the sewers."

"What was that?" One of the boys in the backseat spoke up.

"It was a dragon; they like gold and prey on virgins." Dean replied. His voice sounded weary, and when Jared looked at him, he looked very tired. He had bags under his eyes, and his shoulders were tensed, probably with pain from his wounds. His face had some grime on it from the sewers and his hair was matted with blood and black goo. The boys were all silent, thinking over what they had been told. Jared supposed with what they had seen, there wasn't much else to believe.

Wait... did that mean everything that he had seen tonight was true? The things he saw actually happened? This wasn't some dream? He wasn't high? His head spun with the revelation. Could it possibly...?

He rested his head against the glass and shut his eyes. He wanted to stop thinking. The drive was silent the rest of the way, and he almost fell asleep. They reached the station pretty quickly, having no traffic this early in the morning. Sam got out, allowing the boy sitting in the middle to get out, and the boys in the back all slid out. They stood in a huddle in front of the station on the sidewalk and watched them drive away. Dean drove fairly reasonably through the city, but as soon as he got on the highway, he floored it. With his mind still churning over the possibilities, Jared spoke up.

"Okay, what the HELL is going on?" He demanded loudly, even to himself. He was freaking out; his heart was racing and he was breathing hard. It seemed like everything that he seen was catching up to him. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants as he waited for them to reply.

"Can we talk about this later?" Sam spoke up, his voice weary as he looked over the seat at Jared.

"NO, we can't!" Jared shouted. "I just watched you kill three men! You kept the heads of two of them, and one of them had wings and claws and glowing eyes and fangs, and the other two wouldn't die after you shot them three times and they didn't bleed and I found out that you're serial killers and the FBI wants you and you have an arsenal of weapons in your trunk and you have a disappearing friend!"

Jared was yelling now, nearly hysterical as he recounted his night. His eyes wildly flicked between the brothers, and he panted, his hands clenching and unclenching in his lap.

"Monsters are real. Is that blunt enough for you?" Dean snapped from the driver's seat. Jared stilled in the back seat, his eyes wide. No way...

"Everything you ever read or heard about is real; everything that goes bump in the night. We hunt them as our job." Dean practically snarled. Jared stared at the back of Dean's head in amazement, before he turned to look out the window to think. Was it possible? But there was no other explanation that he had that could come even close to making sense. The thing that Dean had killed had had wings and claws... The man that Dean had shot three times didn't die and didn't bleed...

Jared didn't see anything his eyes were looking at for a good couple of hours as he tried to come to grips with this new revelation. At one point, he realized he was shaking, and he probably had been for some time already. What he wouldn't give for a smoke right now.

"Are vampires real?" He spoke up after a couple of hours.

"Yes," Dean answered.

"Werewolves?"

"Yes."

"Shapeshifters?"

"Still yes."

"Ghosts?"

"Yes."

"Zombies?"

"Yes, yes, YES! Pretty much anything you can think of," Dean answered exasperated.

"You forgot angels and demons," Sam muttered sleepily; Jared had thought he was sleeping. They had stopped for one of the numerous coffee breaks; Dean had to stay awake since he was driving, and Sam hadn't gotten out. Jared had gone to buy smokes, but as soon as Dean saw what he was reaching for, he said that he didn't want, 'anything foul stinking up his baby.' After seeing Jared's look, he quickly clarified that by 'baby,' he meant his car.

"Angels are real?" Jared exclaimed. Well at least that was one positive thing...

"Yeah, they're real dicks and a pain in the ass." Dean grumbled.

"Except Cas," Sam whispered.

Jared noticed Dean stiffen completely at the name and wondered what happened. Dean clenched his jaw, and a muscle in his cheek stood out. His shoulders tensed completely and his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. The car sped up, as Dean got more and more agitated. Sam seemed to have fallen asleep completely, resting his head against the window, not noticing the effect his words had on his brother. Jared decided to reign in his curiosity, because the heavy atmosphere clearly pointed that something happened with this 'Cas' person, and it put Dean in a terrible mood. He retreated into his thoughts, mulling over the new information he had, escaping the tense silence.

Miles passed beneath the wheels of the car, and hours flew by. They drove through states, passed cities, over mountains. Jared had dozed a couple of hours, and he was surprised that Dean was still functioning and driving. In the last few hours, he had been shifting in his seat more often. Sam must have noticed now that he was rested because he told him to pull over. Dean complied, and when they were completely stopped, he got Dean to open trunk. Dean sat on the passenger seat with his legs out the door as Sam returned with a first aid kit in hand. He looked at Dean and he seemed to wilt under his look. He shrugged out of his leather jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt. After he had pulled it off, he added his undershirt to the growing clothes pile.

Jared couldn't help but stare. Dean was well built, and had a toned chest and well-defined pecs. There was a ring of dark purple bruises around his neck from the first creatures that had attacked them. Jared also noticed a large bruise, about the size of his fist, blossoming across Dean's stomach. There was also a angry red, bubbly looking burn on his left wrist, wrapping completely around it. Sam opened a little tube he had pulled out and squirted some clear gel on his fingers. He rubbed the salve on the burn, and after wiping his fingers off on his pants, he wrapped it up with a roll of white gauze. Then he wrapped a more solid looking white material around it and taped the end down. He then moved to the larger burn located on Dean's right shoulder and repeated the process. He packed up the first aid kit quickly and when Dean made to move to the driver's seat, Sam stopped him.

"Dean, no. You are having a rest now. I'll drive."

Dean didn't really resist, and Sam put the kit back in the trunk before sliding into the driver's seat. They merged back into the highway, and Dean was sleeping in a couple of minutes.

They drove until it was dark out. Sam pulled into a little town in the middle of nowhere and pulled into the parking lot of a hotel. Dean had woken up a couple of hours ago when they had stopped for silent dinner in a little greasy diner. Sam turned off the car, and jogged inside, intent on getting them rooms. He came back ten minutes later, two keys in hand. Dean slid out of the car and walked to the trunk, waiting for Sam to open it. When he did, he pulled out two bags, and shut it. Sam handed Jared one of the room keys; the tag said '117.'

They walked to their rooms, and Jared noticed that Sam and Dean had the room next to him. He unlocked his room and entered. The cheap hotel room had two double beds, with some blue swirled design on the comforters. The walls were a plain beige colour with paintings on the wall of scenery. A small TV sat on a low dresser, and a table and set of chairs sat by the door on the little section of tiles. A door near the back headed to the bathroom. The carpet was so stained it was hard to tell what the original colour was, but Jared was too tired to care. He flopped onto the closest bed and lay there, trying to muster up the motivation to pull off his shoes and undress. A knock on the door had him reluctantly getting up and unlocking the door. Sam walked in with a bag of salt in hand.

"What's that for?" Jared asked sleepily.

"Most monsters can't cross salt lines," Sam answered as he made a salt line across the door and window. "Don't break the line." He added as he left. Jared stared for a moment before shutting the door and locking it. A line of salt was supposed to keep out super-strength monsters? Ridiculous. Just another reminder of how weird his life had just became. He kicked off his shoes and quickly stripped down before sliding under the covers and turning out the lights. He was asleep within minutes.

Jared woke up, feeling very disorientated and confused. The sun was shining in through the cracks in the curtains and creating little lines on the floor. How late was it? He felt as though his sense of day and time was off kilter. Jared glanced at the digital clock sitting on the nightstand; it blared 1:37 in its neon red numbers. No wonder he felt so off balance; he rarely slept this late, if ever. He sighed from where he was laying on the squeaky motel bed; he had hoped this would all just be a dream. The salt lines by the door and window reminded him that no, this was not a dream, and horrible nightmarish things did roam the earth. He didn't know how long he laid there, his mind going in circles over monsters, FBI, Sam and Dean Winchester, his life. His bladder eventually made itself known, and he had to run to the bathroom to relieve himself. He took a long, relaxing shower, trying to get all the grime off his skin. After he had washed his hair and body, he stood in the hot spray, wishing the water could wash away all his problems. He got out, much less stiff and sore, and was disappointed to have to wear the same clothes he'd been wearing for almost three days. Since he wasn't at work, he would forgo the tie and suit jacket. He rolled up the sleeves of his button up black shirt to make it look more casual. He stood in front of the mirror and looked at his reflection.

Okay, he'd admit it to himself; he looked like shit. He had dark bags under his eyes, and his brown eyes even looked weary. How was that possible? It was just an iris! Maybe it was just him being paranoid, but he was sure he could see wrinkles that hadn't been there before. His hair was damp from the shower, but before, it had been matted and greasy, sticking up all over the place. Even his posture looked defeated; his shoulders were slumped, and he noticed he kept his head lower than normal, almost as if he was protecting his neck. He straightened up and cracked his back, trying to feel closer to his 'normal.' His clothes looked a little too formal to be everyday wear; it was the dress pants that did it.

He stepped back into the main room and wondered what to do. Was he supposed to knock on the Winchesters' door? But what if they were in the middle of... doing something? That would be terrible timing, not to mention would mentally scar him for life. Was he supposed to leave on his own? But he didn't have much with him; would it even be enough to go home? Should he go home? Would he be allowed to? Would those monsters, those Leviathans, be waiting for him? He had so many questions to ask the Winchesters: Could he return to his everyday life? Would monsters come for him? What would he do if that happened? He decided to watch TV until further notice, since he was so unsure of what to do, and since he wanted his questions answered. He flicked through the channels looking for something good to watch. Nothing really appealed to him, so he settled on a food network show. Bad idea. Since he hadn't eaten in hours, his stomach rumbled whenever anything particularly appetizing was shown. Almost everything the professional chefs cooked up look good; not the clams though. He wasn't a large fan of seafood. He picked up the remote and changed the channel since it was making him too hungry, and settled on some police crime show; these shows were everywhere!

He was only half paying attention to the show when he heard the first noise; most of his attention had been turned to his thoughts on how his life would change from meeting these men. It sounded like a thump from the room next door. That was the Winchesters' room right? Did something happen? Was something attacking them? He listened intently for a minute or so. No more noises came. That could be good or bad right? They could have killed the being that was attacking them, if it so happened. Or, it could be the monster subduing one of them... Jared's mind raced through all the possibilities: a monster that wasn't held back by salt sneaking in while they were sleeping, one of them breaking the salt line by accident while a monster came charging through the door, the FBI finally catching up to them. He wondered if he should check on them. What if they were in danger? His rational mind returned to him because, duh, what help would he be against monsters? He just learned about them for goodness' sake! They were the experts.

He settled again against the headboard and tried to concentrate on what the coroner had found on the body that was so important. He had just found out the reason why the victim's bones broke so easily when he heard a faint moan from next door. He sat bolt upright. Was that a moan of pain? When a louder one followed the first one, he quickly concluded that no, those were not noises born of pain. He hunched over a little and hoped -prayed- that they weren't doing what he thought they were doing. When he heard a quiet groaned, 'Dean,' he turned up the volume on the TV. Jared determinedly tried to pay attention to the show; problem was, the producers got a bunch of things wrong about a coroner's job and about corpses, and it irritated Jared to no end. That's why he usually didn't watch these shows.

As the moans from the Winchesters grew louder, he turned up the TV accordingly. The only problem was, it was never enough to quite drown out the, 'Oh-h-h Dean!' or the 'oh god, Sammy' since the sound of the show had its lulls. Sometimes there would be loud sections of intense music and he would enjoy moments of not being able to hear the sound of the brother's pleasure while other times there would be scenes of quiet dialog. In the quiet parts, he could hear them loud and clear, moaning away next door. Sometimes it was just profanities, and other times it was mangled versions of each other's names. A quiet commercial flashed across the screen, and just then, Jared could hear through the wall, "De-a-n! Oh- oh -oh! I'm gonna-oh!- Deaaan!" He clapped his hands over his ears and wished he could un-hear every noise.

A slight pause followed what sounded like Sam's climax and Jared began to relax; maybe they were done now. A few minutes later though, he could hear a faint groan and the sound of bed springs. Jared groaned and tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. Why did they have to do this now? Couldn't they wait until he'd left? The moans were gradually getting louder again, and the bed seemed to be shrieking in protest to what the brothers were doing over there on it. Jared covered his ears again because the tv just could not get loud enough. A bang behind him startled him. He jerked upright, and when a second bang followed, he realized with disgust that it was the headboard hitting against the wall. He grabbed his pillow and jammed it over his head, hoping to muffle the sounds of Sam and Dean making love next door. With the sounds already supplied, his mind all too easily imagined what was going on, on the other side of the wall.

"Ohhhh... Fuck Sammy! You're so tight!"

As soon as Jared heard that, he scrambled off the bed as fast as he could and ran to the bathroom and shut the door. It was a little quieter in the separate room, but he could still hear the constant beat of the headboard. He was thankful that he couldn't hear their voices though. He wasn't sure how he was going to face them later that afternoon when they were going to leave. He didn't think he would be able to look them in the eyes. His relief was short-lived however when he heard an ecstasy-filled scream. Holy fuck! They were not trying to be quiet at all. They could still be heard through a wall and a door. Good grief! He covered his ears again once he sat down leaning against the bathtub, since he could still hear long, filthy moans. Even with his ears covered, he could still hear the pleasure duet that was being sung from the room next to his.

The banging headboard stepped up the tempo, and the groans and screams got louder, if that was possible. They definitely would receive a phone call from the office. He picked a random song, which turned out to be 'Major Tom' and started humming it, hoping to drown out the building orgasm-induced moans.

Standing there alone

"Oh-h-h! Fuck! Right there!"

The ship is waiting, all systems are go

"God, Sammy! Fu-ck yeah!"

'Are you sure?' Control is not convinced

"De-e-a-n! Ohhh...Harder!"

But the computer has the evidence

"Oh god, oh god, oh god!"

No need to abort; the countdown starts

"Dean! Deeaahhh! I'm gonna- gonna!-"

Waiting in a trance, the crew is certain

"Oh Sammy! Come -oh-h- for me!"

Nothing left to chance; all it working

"Oh god-oh god-ohgodohgod- Deeeaa-aa-n!"

Trying to relax, up in the capsule

"Fuck, fuck, fuck -oh fuck! Samm-my!

'Send me up a drink' jokes Major Tom

The count goes on, 4, 3, 2, 1...

Earth below us, drifting, falling

Floating weightless

Calling, calling home

Once he got through the chorus without being interrupted, he figured they were done. He stayed in the bathroom and finished the song just to be sure. He leaned against the bathtub for an indeterminable amount of time after that, trying to get the sound and the images his mind supplied out of his head. He started counting multiples of three as far as he could, even though he disliked at math; anything to distract his mind. He got up to 348 until he got too frustrated and kept almost losing his place in the number scale. He finally got up and stretched his stiff muscles and found out that his foot was asleep. He put pressure on it and massaged it until the pins-and-needles sensation went away. He opened the door and stepped back into the main room, immediately turning down the volume of the TV, which was blasting.

The show he had been watching had ended and a new crime scene investigation was going flashing across the screen. He ended up watching the whole episode, but he couldn't quite remember what it was about. As a new show came on, he wondered if he should just leave. Which would be worse, waiting for the brothers and having an awkward chat before leaving, or leaving and never getting his questions answered? After a few minutes of debating it, he decided, fuck it, he was leaving. He didn't think he could face the brothers anyways. A knock on his door startled him out of his decision. He walked over and peered through the peephole. Sam was standing looking at the door politely while Dean stood a few feet back, looking into the parking lot. Jared hesitated before opening the door.

"Good afternoon," Sam said politely when the door swung inwards. "How about we go for lunch?"

Jared simply nodded; his gaze fixed somewhere over Sam's shoulder, his face slightly red. He couldn't help but notice a few hickeys on his neck, and he looked down at his feet and shuffled them. When Sam asked for it, he handed over his key, and Sam went and checked out. Jared followed Dean to the car and tried very hard not to think about all the sounds he had heard from him. He noticed new bruises on his neck as well. Jared settled into the backseat and stared out the window. He could tell Dean noticed the awkward atmosphere by the way he wouldn't look at Jared and as soon as he turned the car on, cranked up the music so it was too loud to talk. They cruised up to the office and waited until Sam came back. When he got in the car, Sam didn't comment on the volume of the music.

The cafe they stopped at was pretty full, which Jared took to be a good sign. All these people couldn't be wrong about food quality right? A beautiful hostess showed them to their seat, and Jared felt awkward sitting across from the brothers, almost having no choice but to look at them. He propped the menu in front of his face, using it as a shield. He was barely paying attention, and when their waitress came to take their orders he picked something random to eat. Once the menus were gone however, he didn't have anything to hide behind. He cleared his throat and rearranged his cutlery, napkin and glass of water. Jared decided as long as he had to sit there awkwardly with the two brothers, he may as well get some answers.

"Uh, will I be able to go back to living my normal life after those, um, monster incidents?" He mumbled out, clearing his throat after he finished.

"Yes, you should be able to; I don't think they will bother you," Sam responded cheerfully, as if trying to dispel the awkwardness. Good luck buddy, it was your choice to fuck.

"So, what should I do if a, er, monster comes after me?"

"Well, the primary three things to use against it would be salt, silver, and iron. Most monsters are susceptible to those three things; of course the rare ones are a little trickier and usually require more finicky weapons..." Sam droned on; Dean occasionally adding something.

"Here is our card. Just call if you ever need us," Dean said, pulling a white business card out of his wallet. It was quite simple; it had their names and two cell phone numbers on it. Jared assumed they each had one. It didn't mention who they were or what they did; probably the most practical thing since they were wanted by the police and FBI.

Their waitress came back surprisingly fast with their food, and Jared was secretly grateful. They ate mainly in silence; attempts at small talk were made, but it seemed forced and ended with awkward silences, so they stopped trying. Jared was glad that they stopped; he was tired of pretending not to be awkward, pretending to have not heard them fuck, pretending he wasn't still freaked out by the monsters revelation. They ate fast, each wanting to leave for different reasons. The plates were cleared and the bill was paid. Jared was faintly surprised that the waitress hadn't commented on the aura around them; the awkwardness was tangible. But then again, she had been extra friendly and talked a lot.

The drive through town was much like the drive to the diner; the only sound was the 80's music that Dean was playing. Jared didn't ask were they were going and they didn't tell, but he wasn't too surprised when they arrived at a bus station. Dean shut off the car and they all got out. They said their awkward goodbyes; Jared chanced a look in their eyes before he left, and it made Sam flush a little. Head nods all around, no hand shakes or hugs, and Jared was perfectly okay with that. He wanted to board that bus and forget this ever happened. He wanted to return to his normal life and maybe find a girl soon. Settle into a better apartment definitely.

But though he didn't know it yet, in his apartment, he would always have a large bag of salt nearby and a silver knife tucked away in his room next to his handgun in the bottom drawer of his nightstand. An iron rod could be found in the umbrella stand, while buried deep in his wallet, a simple white business card was wrinkled from so many times of pulling it out and looking at it, just to make sure the events really occurred, could be found. And his friends would say that he definitely changed sometime in that past year, even if they couldn't pin point the exact date. They said he got quieter, more cautious and seemed to pay attention to the news more. What they didn't know, was that he was always looking for news of a certain pair of brothers. But Jared didn't know any of that as he boarded the bus and watched the Winchesters drive off in their old, black car.

Author's note:

So my first ever posted story/one-shot is complete! Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. I'm kind of working on a Cas/Dean story next, so let's see if I can get it finished!