Archive of Our Own ^beta

Current mood:	excited
Entry tags:	b-day, fic, j2

Jared Padalecki loves Halloween. Sure, he's a grown man with a good job, dogs, a boyfriend (even though he can't tell anyone about that), and a house of his own. Two, actually, one of which is in a completely different country than the one he grew up in. Clearly, Jared is not a child.

However, he loves candy, almost as much as he loves his dogs and Jensen, though in a completely different way (and he loves the dogs and Jensen in different ways too, because eww!), and his job involves dressing up in costumes every day (and how cool is that?), so Halloween? Is pretty much tailor-made for Jared.

After all, what's not to love about a holiday that's all about candy and costumes?

Sure, Jared is aware that, to some people, Halloween means more than candy and costumes and trick-or-treating. He has at least a vague idea about the meaning of Samhain, All Saints Day, and el Dia de los Muertos, to name a few, and he thinks that they're cool, but they're not what Halloween means to him, or to the vast majority of the people he knows, so they're not what he gets excited about.

He gets excited about Trick-or-Treating.

No, Jared doesn't go Trick-or-Treating. He's an adult, after all, with a good job, dogs, a boyfriend, and, as previously mentioned, two houses. Grown men who have all those things don't go Trick-or-Treating, unless they also have a small child of their own (or that they can borrow for the evening to give said small child's parents a break). Jared has accomplished a lot in his life, and he has a lot, but he does not have a child, and all the parents he knows actually like Trick-or-Treating with their children, so he can't borrow their children for the evening either.

He could probably take his nephew out, but they don't live in the same state (or even the same country nine months out of the year), so that's out too.

That doesn't matter, though. Jared doesn't get excited about going Trick-or-Treating (though if he ever has a child, he is so going to be the one to take him or her). He gets excited about all the children coming to his house. In a way, it's better than going out. He gets to see more costumes, and since he's old enough to buy his own candy from the store (thus ensuring he only gets the kinds he wants and none of the cheap stuff that lingers in the bottom of the candy bowl for weeks before it's dragged into work or thrown away just to get it out of the house), it doesn't matter that he doesn't get to collect lots of candy.

Plus, the children are adorable. Jared loves the tiny ones who are just figuring out what's going on, and he takes a perverse pleasure in making the older ones who seem to think that they have a God-given right to snag candy from every house in the neighborhood say "Trick-or-Treat" before he puts any candy in their pillow cases.

Halloween is definitely one of Jared's favorite days of the year.

Which is why, when the alarm goes off at an ungodly hour of the morning, Jared bounces out of bed, pausing just long enough to kiss Jensen on the forehead and pull the covers back up over his boyfriend's shoulders. He dresses in the bathroom so he can turn on the light without waking Jensen, and kisses the top of Jensen's head, which is now the only thing not buried by blankets, before dashing out the door to run with the dogs.

Today is going to be awesome, never mind the horribly early calls and grueling schedule. Halloween on the set of a horror show is the best day of the year, and since a lot of the crew members have kids, Jared fully intends to campaign for finishing early (or at least taking an extended dinner break), so that they can be home for their children.

His motives are completely pure, of course, and have nothing to do with the fact that he wants to be home to give out candy to the children in his neighborhood. That thought would never cross his mind, and he most definitely doesn't have enough candy to make even him ill sitting on top of the refrigerator. He also does not have costumes picked out, or a devious plan to coerce Jensen into his. Nope, not at all. Not him.

He would never do anything like that.

Honest.

By the time Jared gets back from his run, the automatic coffee pot has done its job, and there's a full pot waiting for him. He pours himself a mug, drinks it while he feeds the dogs, and then pours a bigger mug for Jensen. It's a lot earlier than Jensen likes to get up, and slightly earlier than they actually need to be up, but Jared is excited, and he wants to get to set early so he can start on his campaign to get the crew members home in time for Trick-or-Treating.

An extra large cup of coffee fixed exactly the way Jensen likes it isn't going to fix the early hour, but it will go a long way towards getting Jensen to forgive Jared for the early wake up call, and that's really the most Jared expects.

He is realistic, after all.

Well, on occasion, anyway.

Jensen is, unsurprisingly, in the same position Jared left him, buried under the covers, his face smashed into the pillow, and only the messy brown spikes of his hair visible. Jared sets the coffee on the nightstand, careful to keep it far enough from the edge that Jensen won't knock it over when he fumbles for it, and slowly pulls the covers back, running his hand down Jensen's warm back as he does so.

Jensen shivers as the cold air hits him, and simultaneously tries to burrow further into the pillows and press his back against Jared's hand. "Ngh."

"If that means go away, sorry, no can do." Jared sits down, leans in, and presses a gentle kiss to the back of Jensen's neck. "It's time to get up. But I brought coffee."

"No alarm."

If it weren't for years of experience, Jared wouldn't have understood the words, much less what Jensen meant by them. As it is, he just shakes his head and chuckles. "The alarm will go off in a few minutes, but I want to get there early. I'm going to campaign for us to be done in time to be home for Trick-or-Treating."

That gets Jensen's attention, and he turns his head, cracks open one eye, and glares at Jared. He looks surprisingly fierce, especially considering his face is flushed, his eye is only half open, and he still has his arms wrapped around the feather pillow he was trying to bury himself in. "Why?"

That's a stupid question, but Jared will let it pass since Jensen isn't awake yet. "Because it's fun. Besides, a lot of the crew has kids. I'm sure they would like to be home for it. Come on," he says, patting Jensen's lower back before climbing off the bed, "I'll make you more coffee while you get dressed."

The look that Jensen gives him could peel paint and wither flowers, but Jared ignores it in favor of kissing Jensen on the cheek and heading towards the bathroom. He's going to have to wake Jensen up again after he showers, but at least the process is started, and Jared has a tiny bit of hope that Jensen will at least manage to sit up and drink some coffee while he performs his ablutions. Either way, at least he's started on the process of getting his lover out of bed.

Jensen lets his eye fall closed as soon as Jared is in the bathroom. He has a point about the crew wanting to be home for their kids tonight—just yesterday one of the cameramen was telling Jensen about the princess costume his wife had made for his daughter, and how he was going to have to get her to take lots of pictures, because they were scheduled to film until after Trick-or-Treating was over—but that doesn't make it any easier to get out of bed. In fact, it's harder this morning than most days, and he knows it's not just because of the early hour. He's gotten up earlier before, both to be on set and to catch planes, and though he doesn't like it, it's not usually this hard.

Still, they had a late night last night, and since Jared is still in the shower, Jensen doesn't have to move quite yet. He'll get up in a minute, really. He just needs to rest his eyes for another minute or two. Then he'll move. Honest.

Two minutes turns into however long Jared is in the shower, and the next thing Jensen is aware of is Jared kneeling next to him, his hand on the back of Jensen's neck and his eyes wide with concern. "Are you okay? You're hot and you haven't touched your coffee."

Honestly, Jensen isn't sure he is, but he's not dying, and he doesn't need to be rushed to the hospital, so he's going in to work. They don't have the kind of job where he can just call in sick, because he has a killer headache and lacks the energy to move. "I'm good."

Jared doesn't look like he believes him, but he sits back and lets Jensen push himself up. The room spins alarmingly as Jensen moves, and it's only Jared's hand behind his back that keeps him from toppling straight back down to the pillows.

"Are you sure—?"

"It doesn't matter, Jared." Jensen shoots Jared a look as he scoots towards the edge of the bed. "I'm not dying, so I'm going in. That's how it works. You know that."

"Yeah, all right." Jared lets out a Sam-worthy sigh. "Just promise me you'll take it easy when you can. You really don't look good."

"Gee. Thanks." Jensen avoids the issue by swinging his legs off the bed and scooting towards his coffee. He's happy to take it easy if he gets the opportunity, but there won't be many, and Jensen isn't going to press for them. Not on a day that everyone is going to want to go home early to see his or her kids. He's not a diva, and he's not going to do anything that might even lend himself to the thought that he could become one.

The idea of trying to go slow today is just as unthinkable as the idea of calling in. Neither one is an option, so Jensen is just going to suck it up and go despite his pounding head and aching muscles. He'll rest when they get home tonight.

He just hopes Jared will forgive him for skipping out on the Trick-or-Treating festivities if his nefarious plan works, and they do get home in time to hand out candy to the little kids. There's no way he's going to be up to it, not with how he feels. He'll just have to remind his boyfriend that he doesn't want to risk getting the children sick, and hope that is enough to get him out of dressing up as well as handing out candy.

Jared, of course, completely ignores the sarcasm in Jensen's voice. "You're welcome!" he chirps, reaching around Jensen's shoulder to hand him the cup of coffee. It's a bit ridiculous really—Jensen is closer to it than Jared is—but to reach it, Jared had to press his chest against Jensen's back, and the warmth of his still damp skin feels far better than it has any right to.

"Thanks," he whispers, giving Jared a small smile as he wraps his hands around the mug. It's a sweet gesture, and coffee always makes everything better.

Except today.

He doesn't even get the coffee to his lips. As soon as he takes a deep breath, inhaling the usually heavenly scent, his stomach rebels, and he barely manages to hand the cup back to Jared before he dashes to the bathroom, falling to his knees on the damp mat and cold porcelain tiles.

At some point while Jensen heaves, Jared kneels behind him, resting one hand on the small of his back and making soothing noises in his ear. Jared is saying something, Jensen is sure, but all he can hear is the soothing sound of his boyfriend's voice. The words he's using don't matter.

Jensen has no idea how long he kneels there, his stomach twisting, and his shoulders shaking, but when he finally sits up, Jared has a glass of water waiting and carefully wipes his mouth with a damp washcloth as soon as he's done rinsing it out. "Thanks," Jensen croaks, not protesting at all as Jared guides his head to his shoulder.

It feels good to bury his eyes against Jared's warm skin, and he only wishes that he could stay like that all morning. He would even stay here on the uncomfortable tile floor if it meant he got to relax against Jared, but sadly, he can only take a minute before he pushes back, blinks blearily against the light, and struggles to his feet.

"You should go back to bed," Jared says, following him from the bathroom to the bedroom and frowning as he starts to pull clothes from the dresser. "You're sick."

"Yeah, and we have a schedule to keep." Jensen winces at the sound of his voice as he pulls a t-shirt and boxers from the drawer. He's going to have to drink a lot of tea and suck on cough drops if he wants Dean to sound remotely like himself. "I'm in every scene we're shooting today. I can't just not go."

"We can—"

"No." He won't even let Jared suggest it. He's not sick enough to stay home. He just needs to shower and dose himself up on every over-the-counter medication in their cabinet. If it gets too bad, he'll ask one of the Pa's to get him something stronger, but he's still holding out hope that he can at least pretend to be okay while they're filming. "Just drop it, please. I don't have the energy to argue."

"Which is exactly why you should stay home," Jared says sadly. He pulls Jensen in for a brief hug before kissing his forehead and steering him towards the doorway. "Go shower down the hall. I'll clean up in here."

"Thanks." Jensen manages a small smile as he walks out the door, but all he can think is how much today is going to suck.

He's right. The scenes they're filming are brutal, and, by lunchtime, it's all Jensen can do to stay upright while croaking his lines. He knows he's not giving his best, and it kind of pisses him off that no one is calling him on it and demanding that he do better. At least, it would if he had the energy to be pissed off about anything. Instead, he's grateful every time the director calls cut, and he's able to collapse in his chair for a few minutes.

When they finally break for lunch, he feels as though he's going to die, and he walks straight past craft services to his trailer, where he collapses on the couch and contemplates looking into a career that includes sick days. His eyes slide shut almost against his will, and it's not long before he's dozing fitfully, his sleep occasionally interrupted by the rattle in his chest.

The next thing he knows, Jared is sitting next to him, perched precariously on the edge of the couch and balancing Styrofoam containers on his lap. "Hey," he says, smiling softly as he brushes Jensen's sweat-damp hair back from his forehead. "I hate to wake you, but you need to eat something. I brought soup." He holds up the top container for Jensen to see. "The girls in craft services heard you were sick and made chicken and rice."

That makes Jensen smile a little as he pushes himself upright. Jared is sitting so he can't swing his legs off the couch, so he leans back against the armrest and pulls his knees to his chest. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Jared flashes another smile as he hands over the soup and a plastic spoon. "How you feelin', anyway? Any better at all?"

"Worse." It's unfortunately true. He's freezing, even in all Dean's layers and with the space heater warming his trailer to so far above its usual temperature he's surprised Jared didn't break out in buckets of sweat as soon as he stepped through the door. His throat is raw from all the screaming he's been doing as Dean—though at least that gives him an excuse for sounding hoarse—and muscles he forgot he had ache. His stomach has calmed a little, thank God, but it's been replaced by a tightness in his chest and coughs he has to suppress in front of the camera.

Jared's lips twist in sympathy as he digs into his chicken. "Anything I can do?"

Jensen just shakes his head around his spoon of soup. Jared has done everything possible to make this easier on Jensen, but short of a few days in bed and possibly some antibiotics, there's nothing that's going to make Jensen feel any better.

They eat in silence for several minutes, Jensen slowly sipping his soup, Jared wolfing down his meat and vegetables. When the container is half empty, Jensen sets it aside, unable to eat any more, and lets his head fall back against the couch. "Sorry," he croaks, his voice somehow sounding worse even though the soup actually made his throat feel better.

Jared pauses, a bite of chicken halfway to his mouth. "For what?"

"All this." Jensen waves his hand vaguely in the air before letting it flop back down to his lap. He doesn't have the energy to keep it up. "Today has kind of sucked, man, and not just for me. The dailies are going to be crap."

Jared sets his Styrofoam container down on the couch and twists so he's looking Jensen in the eyes. "You're sick. And you're doing the best you can. We all know that."

"It's not my best," Jensen mumbles dejectedly, letting his eyes slide closed.

"It is for how you feel." Jared takes Jensen's hands in his. "And honestly, Jensen? It's good. Trust me. I know you feel horrible, but you look and sound awesome out there. You'll see. There's going to be a lot more useable stuff than you think."

"If you say so." Jensen doesn't have the energy to argue. He's too tired and worn down, and his throat hurts far too much.

"I do." Jared leans in and kisses both Jensen's eyelids. "Rest, okay? I'm going to go see how the festivities are going."

It's all Jensen can to do make a sound of agreement as Jared gently stretches out his legs and shifts him down so he's lying flat on the couch. The last thing he's aware of is something warm being laid over him, and the gentle click of the door shutting.

The mood is subdued as Jared joins the crew members at their celebration. Jennie brought in caramel apples, and there's lots of candy sitting around, but the whole thing lacks the atmosphere of fun that usually pervades the set. It's almost as if it's not a holiday at all, and it does nothing to lift Jared's mood, even though he can't blame anyone. The whole thing has the air of a party where the guest of honor didn't show up.

Jared isn't sure if he should be grateful that everyone is so concerned about Jensen, or if he should take each one of them by their shoulders and shake them for letting what is ultimately a little thing drag the day down. It's hard to think of this as a little thing when Jensen is clearly so miserable, though, so he slumps down in one of the chairs and rests his forehead on the table. Worrying is exhausting.

A small hand rubs at the back of his neck, and he turns his head to see Shannon frowning at him. "How's he doing?"

"He's miserable."

"How are you doing?"

Jared has to smile at that. Trust Shannon to notice how stressed he is about this whole thing. "I'll be fine. I'm not the one who's sick."

"Yeah, but you're the one who gets to take care of him, and I know that Jensen isn't a good patient."

"Except for insisting that he come in today, he's actually been cooperating." That worries Jared more than anything else does. Jensen usually isn't a good patient, and the fact that he hasn't protested any of Jared's ministrations says volumes about how poorly he's feeling. It's a little terrifying, actually, even though Jared knows Jensen will be fine, and just thinking about it tips him over the edge to being grateful that everyone is worried about his boyfriend.

"Jensen cooperating when he's sick isn't exactly a good thing, Jared," Shannon says softly, rubbing her hand between his shoulder blades again. "That worries me more, actually."

"Me too," Jared admits in an even quieter voice. "I was going to campaign to wrap early so everyone could get home to Trick-or-Treat with their kids, but I don't want Jensen pushed any more than he already is. Does that make me a bad person?"

"You know, if you get us out of here early, you can get Jensen home to a real bed."

"Yeah, but what's he going to have to do to get there?" Jared shook his head, turning it so his forehead was once again resting against the cool wood. "I won't ask him to do more than he already is."

"How much does he really have to be on set for? You have tomorrow off. Isn't his stand-in around here somewhere?"

Jared opens his mouth to protest and then immediately snaps it shut again as something occurs to him. "Shannon," he says, twisting to wrap her in a hug before he stands, "You're the best."

Her eyebrows creep up. "Um, thanks?"

"You're welcome." His smile is bright and genuine now, and he wraps Shannon in another hug. "Seriously, though, you're brilliant."

"Does this mean we're going to be home in time for Trick-or-Treating?"

"I hope so." Jared flashes another grin at Shannon as he hurries out of the tent. He has a director to find.

Jensen wakes slowly, shifting around on the couch as aching muscles make their discomfort known and the sunlight peeking through the window creeps across his body to his face. It's his cough that finally jars him to full alertness, sending him from a peaceful doze to fully awake with one solid rattle and choke. He rolls to the side, coughing into the crook of his arm as his whole body shakes. When the fit finally subsides, he collapses back with a moan, throwing an arm over his eyes as he tries to get comfortable again.

He's just barely managed it when the door opens, sending light spilling into the room, and he lifts his arm to see Jared peering in, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes wide and worried. When he sees Jensen looking back, he grins. "You're awake!"

"Yeah. Sort of." Jensen winces at the hoarse croak of his voice. "Time is it?"

Jared slips inside, shutting the door behind him and returning the trailer to blissful dimness. "Almost three."

"What?" It's a good thing that Jared was almost to the couch before he answered, because Jensen sits up so fast that his head spins and he would have toppled to the floor if Jared hadn't been there to catch him.

"Whoa." Jared wraps his warm, strong arms around Jensen and guides his head to his shoulder, letting him hide his eyes against the rough fabric of Sam's coat. "Careful."

Jensen only gives himself a few seconds to breathe in Jared's musky scent before he pulls back enough to look Jared in the eyes. Jared's hands stay on his shoulders, holding him steady, and Jensen doesn't object. Honestly, he needs it at the moment. "Three? Jared, lunch ended—"

"Several hours ago," Jared finishes. "I know. We decided to let you sleep."

It's definitely a good thing Jared is holding him up, because Jensen's vision is going hazy, and he's suddenly struggling to pull in air. "But Jared—"

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down. Take a deep breath." Jared rests his forehead against Jensen's, looking him straight in the eyes and waits until he manages to comply. It's hard; coughs threaten to erupt from his chest every time he sucks in the air, but eventually he gets his breathing under control, and Jared helps him sit up a little straighter. "Everything is still on schedule. We did my coverage, with Tony standing in for you. We don't actually need you for shots from the back, you know."

He does, but that doesn't mean he likes it. It's one thing for his stand in to be used for lighting shots, or if he's off filming a different scene, or at another obligation, but because he's napping? That's so not cool, and Jared knows how he feels about it. Jensen thought Jared felt the same way. "Yeah, but—"

Jared's fingers come up to cover his lips. "You're sick, Jensen. We need you as rested as possible for your coverage, okay? Tony doesn't mind, and this way, you're able to do your stuff and not worry about everything else. Just relax, okay? No one thinks any less of you."

Jensen isn't sure he agrees, but it's a moot point now, so he nods, moving his head carefully, and lets Jared help him to his feet. He's not going to admit it to anyone, even Jared, but the longer he's awake, the happier he is that Tony stood in for him during Jared's coverage. Even with the extra long nap, he still isn't feeling any better, and if the concerned looks he's getting as Jared guides him to the makeup trailer with an arm around his shoulders are any indication, he doesn't look any better either. They're probably going to be lucky to get his coverage as it is.

They end up wrapping early, not because they get the scenes done, but because Jensen reaches the point where he literally cannot remember his lines and he's having trouble standing up. When he ends up leaning too hard against a table that's supposed to break later in a fight scene, triggering it early and sending it crashing to the floor, the director calls cut and sends everyone home to rest up and enjoy the evening.

He pulls Jared aside as they're getting ready to leave, saying something that Jensen can't hear and gesturing wildly in his direction. It's more than a bit unnerving, but Jensen lacks the strength to go over and see what they're discussing, so he settles for sending a vaguely annoyed glare in their direction as he huddles in his chair, shivering. The temperature difference between the set with the lights on and the lights off is astounding, and every bit of the cold that Jensen had felt in his trailer earlier has crept back into his bones and brought friends.

About the time Jared starts waving his arms, gesturing wildly at whatever the director is saying, Jensen is shivering horribly, his entire body shaking so hard he briefly wonders if he should try to get to the floor so he doesn't end up there the hard way.

It ends up being a moot point. Jared looks over, his eyes widen, and suddenly the conversation he was having is over and he's marching across the room, his long steps taking him past Jensen in a few strides. He pats Jensen's shoulder as he passes and says something that Jensen doesn't have time to puzzle out before he's back, a sweatshirt in one hand and his parka in the other. "Here. Put these on."

Jensen is too cold to argue, and immediately grabs the sweatshirt, pulling it over his head and stuffing his arms through the sleeves as he shakes. His fingers don't stick out of the ends. "Aren't these yours?"

"My trailer is closer." Jared says it as though it's the most logical thing in the world. It might be, but Jensen's brain is too fuzzy to make sense of anything, so he just nods, then winces.

That was a really bad idea.

"All right," Jared says, wrapping his arm around Jensen's shoulders and easing him to his feet. "Let's get you home. You think you can walk to the car, or do I need to have Clif pull it up?"

Home sounds fabulous, and Jensen is pretty sure that having Clif pull it up means he'll have to wait longer, so he slides his arm around Jared's waist, pressing himself close so that Jared can take most of his weight and do all of the steering. "I'm good."

Jared rests the back of his hand against Jensen's forehead. "No you're not," he says, replacing his hand with his lips before picking up the dropped parka and slowly guiding Jensen towards the door. "But you'll get there."

Jensen doesn't have the energy to disagree.

The neighborhood is brightly decorated, the excitement of Halloween permeating the air even inside the SUV. Jared can't help but grin excitedly as he peers through the windows at the Jack o' Lanterns sitting out on the porches, and the spider webs, witches, ghosts, and cats that hang from windows or perch on lawns. There are plenty of families in this area, and the influence of the kids on the holiday can be seen everywhere.

Jensen is tucked against his side, Jared's parka spread across his lap, his head resting on Jared's shoulder, and his breathing deep and mostly even as he slumbers. Every so often his breath hitches and Jared freezes, waiting for the cough that's going to wake Jensen up, but it never comes, and Jensen is still asleep when Clif pulls the SUV into the driveway, backing in so that Jared's door is right by the walk.

Jared nods his thanks as he gets out of the car, keeping one hand on Jensen's shoulder, so the other man stays upright. "Hey," he says softly once he's firmly on the ground outside. "We're home."

"Hmm?" Jensen's eyelids crack slightly, and he turns his head to blink blearily at Jared. He looks adorably confused, and if Jared didn't know exactly how poorly Jensen felt, he would find it absolutely charming. As it is, he finds it worrisome and has to resist the urge to just tug Jensen out of the SUV and carry him inside, or better yet, climb back in and have Clif take them to a doctor.

He can't do either. Jensen would kill him once he's better if he does the first, and the set medic already looked Jensen over at Jared's insistence, pronounced it to be a nasty virus, and told Jared to just make sure Jensen got lots of fluid and rest, and that he didn't need to go see anyone, unless he got worse. This is worrying, but given the day they've had and the amount of effort Jensen put into being Dean, Jared doesn't think this is worse. This is just being tired from working.

He hopes.

"Come on," he says instead, sliding his hand behind Jensen's back and gently easing him forward and over. "Let's get inside. You can shower and sleep."

"Just sleep," Jensen mumbles, and for a moment Jared doesn't think he understood what he is being asked to do, but then his arms come up to circle Jared's neck, and he lets Jared help him from the car.

He stays close as they make their way inside, letting Jared do all the work, and a small part of Jared is thrilled to have Jensen tucked up against him like this. It's not a position he gets to assume often, at least not out in public when they're not goofing off for the cameras, and Jared is glad for it.

The thought is immediately followed by a flash of guilt. He's happy with their relationship, happy with how things are, and he doesn't want Jensen to be sick, even if he does like how clingy and touchy-feely it makes him.

He'll take healthy Jensen over clingy Jensen any day.

That's why, when they get inside, he steers Jensen straight up the stairs, practically carrying him, and gets him sitting on the bed, before he pulls back to grab pajama bottoms and a t-shirt out of Jensen's dresser drawer. "Hey."

Jensen blinks at him blearily, his brow furrowing as he looks around, like he's trying to figure out where he is, and how he got there. "Hmm?"

"Get changed, okay?" Jared sets the clothes on the bed next to Jensen. "I'm going to go take care of the dogs and see about dinner."

He kisses the top of Jensen's head before he leaves, and as he hurries down the hall, he makes a bet with himself that Jensen will be sitting in exactly the same position when he returns.

Jared loses. Well, nominally. It's hard to actually lose a bet with yourself, because right or wrong, you technically win, but the thing that Jared was sure was going to happen didn't. Well, sort of didn't. Jensen is in exactly the same spot on the bed when Jared returns, but he's not sitting in exactly the same spot. He's lying down, curled on his side with the clothes Jared grabbed for him tucked under his head like a pillow and his legs pulled up towards his chest.

His cheeks are flushed and his breath is rattling again, but Jared still finds it the most adorable thing he's seen in a while.

It's possible that he's biased. He'll admit that much.

He can't let Jensen stay like that, though, no matter how adorable it is, or they'll both regret it in the morning, so he sets the mug of soup and cup of honey lemon tea on the dresser and gently shakes Jensen's shoulder.

Jensen bats at Jared's hand and scrunches his nose, but he doesn't open his eyes, until Jared slides his hand down Jensen's back and rubs soothingly. "Come one, Jensen, you have to eat something."

Bleary green eyes blink at him, and for a moment Jared is afraid that Jensen is getting worse and that he should have had Clif take them to the doctor, but then Jensen squeezes his eyes shut, scrunches his nose, and blinks again with a slightly clearer gaze. "What?"

The raspy sound of his voice tears at Jared's heart. "Come on," he says softly, helping Jensen sit up. "Let's get you changed and then you can drink some soup and go back to sleep, okay?"

"It's early."

"Yeah, and you're sick." Jared slides his hands under the hem of Jensen's shirts and slides them over his head. Jensen raises his arms as the fabric bunches up under them, looking for all the world like a small, lost child as he blinks up at Jared. "You need to rest."

"Downstairs?" Jensen threads his arms through the shirt Jared holds out for him and slips it over his head, letting Jared tug it down over his torso. "You have stuff to do, for tonight. I can rest downstairs while you, you know."

That's probably the longest thing Jensen has said all day outside of what he spat out on set, and Jared can hear the rawness of his throat in every word. It's sweet, that Jensen still wants Jared to be able to enjoy Halloween, but there's no way he's going to let Trick-or-Treating children ring their doorbell and keep Jensen awake. Nor is he going to sit outside on the porch while Jensen is inside, feeling miserable. It was bad enough leaving him in the trailer while they shot Jared's coverage at work; he's not going to leave him so that he can hand out candy.

The mere thought is absolutely ridiculous.

"Not giving out candy this year," he tells Jensen as he coaxes him out of his jeans and into the pajama bottoms. "I'll give the candy to a neighbor or leave it on the porch or something." Or just save it to eat over the next few months. If he doesn't give anything out, he won't have to go to the candy store until after the New Year, even with how much of it he eats.

Jensen takes Jared's hands after he's done changing and looks him straight in the eyes. He only manages to hold his gaze for a few seconds before he's blinking and wincing, but Jared gets the point, and squeezes Jensen's hands reassuringly. He wants to convince Jensen to drink the soup and tea and then lie down, but he'll wait until Jensen says whatever is on his mind.

"But you love Halloween." Jensen's brow furrows in what Jared assumes is confusion. "You have a costume and everything."

"I have one for you and the dogs too," Jared admits in a quiet voice. "But we can use them next year. You need to sleep, and I need to take care of you." He steps back and grabs the soup from the dresser, pressing the mug into Jensen's hands once he's scooted back to lean against the headboard. "Now drink, okay?"

He waits for Jensen to reply, kisses his too-warm forehead, and heads back downstairs. He has a lot to do, and very little time to do it in.

It takes an incredible amount of effort for Jensen to lift the mug of soup to his lips. Jared is right, he needs to eat something before crashing for the night, and his stomach and throat are both still feeling delicate enough that soup is definitely the best option at the moment, but his arms hurt, the mug feels unnaturally heavy, and all he really wants to do is curl up and sleep.

The first splash of warm liquid on his tongue changes his mind. It tastes heavenly, and feels even better as it slides down his throat. He can feel it moving through his chest, loosening the tightness there, and when he's done swallowing, Jensen feels as if he might be able to take a deep breath for the first time in days.

He doesn't try. The tightness returns almost as soon as the warmth fades, and Jensen finds his chest rattling with even the shallow breaths he's taking. He knows that if he tries to breathe any deeper, he'll cough until he can't breathe anymore, so he keeps sipping the soup, relishing the momentary reprieves it brings.

By the time Jensen finishes the soup, his chest feels a little looser, and he's breathing easier if not any deeper. He wants to move on to the tea, in the hopes that it will continue the magic the soup started to work, but Jared left it on the dresser, and there is no possible way Jensen is crossing the room at the moment. He's breathing better, sure, but his limbs all feel as though they weigh a thousand pounds, and every time he moves his head, a wave of dizziness washes over him. Even if he could make it across the room, which is debatable, there is no possible way he could make it back carrying a full cup of hot liquid.

He'll have to settle for the next best option.

"Jared!" he calls out, barely suppressing the cough that tries to rise in his chest as he sucks in the breath to yell. There's no response, even after what feels like forever, so Jensen pushes himself over, falling towards the door, and yells again.

Or tries to yell, anyway. This time it comes out as a croak that he can barely hear. He flops down so he's lying sprawled across the bed, his head pointing to the door and his hand hanging off the edge. "Jared?"

The door opens, and for a second, Jensen thinks Jared heard him despite the odds, but it's just Sadie. She pushes the door with her nose and huffs curiously as she trots across the room to sniff at Jensen's hand.

Jensen scratches behind her ears as best he can without moving anything other than his fingers. "Hey, girl," he mumbles, digging his fingers into her fur. He manages a wan smile when she looks up at him with curious eyes. He's not sure why; most of her reactions are to his movements and tone, not his facial expressions, but he wants to put up a front regardless.

This time, though, it almost seems as though Sadie does understand the look he's giving her. She tilts her head to the side, huffs loudly, and shakes her ears before nosing at Jensen's hand again. When he starts to stroke the soft fur over her nose, she licks his fingers and looks at him with soft eyes that seem to say she knows exactly how she feels.

Either that, or she's upset because he's not doing a better job petting her. She is a dog, after all.

"Sorry, girl," he apologies just in case it's the latter, still running his thumb over the bridge of her nose. "Don't have the energy to pet you right today."

Sadie huffs again, but whatever she is trying to convey is lost as Jensen's body is wracked by another coughing fit. He curls in on himself, burying his face in the covers and clutching his arms to his stomach, and tries to ride it out.

It hurts. His throat is burning again, his chest aching, and when he tries to reassure Sadie, who is nosing at his hand and whimpering, it comes out as a painful, hoarse croak that doesn't sound even remotely like words. He tries to clear his throat, but that just makes it worse, leaving him feeling as though thousands of tiny pins are pricking into his flesh, and when he tries to swallow, it feels as though sandpaper is being rubbed over raw wounds.

The involuntary gasp he lets out makes it worse, and he does the only thing he can think of—climbs out of bed to get a drink. The tea Jared left on the dresser is slightly closer than the bathroom with its cups and tap water, so he heads in that direction, keeping his leg pressed against the bed as he shuffles in the hopes that it will help combat the dizziness that threatens to overwhelm him with every step.

He makes it four steps before the world tilts alarmingly on its axis, and five before everything goes dark.

Jared is finishing his dinner when Sadie trots into the kitchen, nudges his knee with her nose, and heads straight back to the door. She pauses once she gets there, looking over her shoulder expectantly, and when Jared puts another bite into his mouth, she swivels around to face him again and lets out a soft yip.

"What is it, girl?" he asks, still shoveling food into his mouth. It's not as though the dog can understand him anyway, and he's hungry. At lunch, he was too worried about Jensen to eat much, and now, even though he's even more worried, his stomach is demanding attention. He can indulge it and talk to the dog at the same time.

Sadie yips again, and when Jared just raises his eyebrow and sticks another bite into his mouth, she trots back over to him and grabs the hem of his pants with her teeth.

It's not something Sadie ever does. Harley is great for chewing on anything he can get his teeth on, and for trying to chew on things he can't get his teeth on, but Jared never has to discipline Sadie for chewing on things she shouldn't. She's almost scarily well behaved sometimes.

Worried now, Jared drops his fork and leans down, carefully extracting his pants from Sadie's mouth and cupping his hands around her jaw so he can look into her eyes. "Sadie? What's wrong?"

Sadie twists her head out of Jared's hands and shakes her entire body, huffing as she vibrates. When she's done, she looks up at Jared reproachfully and heads to the door again.

This time, he follows.

He's not surprised when she heads straight up the stairs. He was actually shocked to see her—Sadie loves Jensen, and it's unusual for her to be far away when he's not feeling well.

In retrospect, that should have been his first clue, but instead, he's surprised when they get to the bedroom, and he sees the empty bed. "Jensen?" he calls softly, his eyes wide and his heart pounding as he looks around the room. Something isn't right, he can feel it deep in his bones, and when Sadie trots around the bed, her snout lowered, and her tail hanging, he follows as quickly as his feet will carry him.

It's not fast enough.

Time stops as he rounds the bed, his muscles freezing as his brain struggles to process what he's seeing. Jensen was supposed to be curled up in bed while Jared ate and took care of things downstairs; he was supposed to drink his soup, and maybe his tea and doze, until Jared got back.

He wasn't supposed to do this.

Jared is on his knees before he's even aware of moving, his hands fluttering uselessly over Jensen's still form. "Jensen?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper as he brushes his fingers across his partner's too-hot cheek and hopes for a response.

Jensen is sprawled on the floor, his legs twisted beneath him, and one arm flung out across the carpet. Sadie is nudging at his outstretched hand, licking it after every nudge, but neither Jared's touch nor Sadie's tongue elicits more than a twitch and a small sound from Jensen.

It's not enough. Jared strokes his hand over Jensen's cheek again, tracing his knuckles along Jensen's cheekbone and brushing his thumb over his eyelid. "Come on, Jensen. Wake up." His voice is louder this time, though tight and strained as he struggles to keep it from breaking. "Please."

The noise Jensen makes isn't exactly a word, but it's a response, and for a brief second, it's enough. Jared's heart soars as relief courses through his body, but the euphoria is quickly replaced by despair when the pained noise is the only response he's able to elicit. "Jensen," he says again, leaning in to brush his lips over Jensen's forehead as he tries to decide if he should haul Jensen to the car or call emergency services. "I need you to open your eyes, okay?"

This time, Jensen makes a noise that Jared never, ever wants to hear again, and Jared decides that if Jensen doesn't open his eyes this time, he's making the call. This is what the medic meant by worse.

"Jensen," he tries again, desperation tinting his tone. "Open your eyes. Please."

This time, Jensen responds, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal fever-bright eyes shining with tears. "Jared?"

"Yeah." The relief that courses through Jared is palpable, and it takes every bit of his strength to keep from sagging against Jensen as his tense muscles relax.

"Thought you weren't coming." Jensen's lips twist down into a pout, though Jared won't ever call him on it. Not while he's sick. "I called, but you didn't answer."

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear you." Jared strokes his fingers through Jensen's hair with a shaking hand. "What happened?"

"I wanted my tea, but the room was spinning." Jensen manages a small smile as he looks up at Jared. "I tried to get it, and I was dizzy, and then you were here."

Jared is torn between wanting to shake Jensen like a rag doll for being so stupid and wanting to wrap Jensen up in his arms and never let him go, but he can't do either. Instead, he slides his hand up and down Jensen's arm, rubbing soothingly. "Well, then, how about we get you back in bed, and I'll grab your tea, and some cough syrup, and we can watch a movie?"

"Yeah, okay."

Jared doesn't even think. As soon as Jensen starts to move, slowly pushing himself to his elbows and clearly fighting the dizziness that landed him on the floor in the first place, Jared moves, sliding his hands under Jensen's shoulders and knees and shifting to his feet as he lifts.

Jensen clutches at him, burying his face in Jared's shoulder as they move, but once Jared has him settled on the bed, Jensen blinks up at Jared. "I'm not a baby, you know."

"I know. But you are sick, so humor me."

The look Jensen gives him states better than any eye roll what Jensen thinks of that idea, but he manages a tiny nod anyway. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Jared can't help but grin. Jensen is looking better, which is to say, he's looking about the same as he did when they got home, but after seeing him on the floor like that, Jared will take the flushed skin and glazed eyes. That's nothing compared to what he'd just seen. "Now stay there while I get everything ready, okay?"

"Okay." Jensen slides down under the covers, his eyes closing again, but as Jared stands, he slips one hand out and tugs on Jared's sleeve. "I'm cold."

"You're crazy," Jared replies easily, the banter coming as naturally as the movements that guide his hand to grab his UT sweatshirt from the floor and ease it over Jensen's head, threading his arms through the sleeves as though he were a child. "Better?"

Jensen nods and wraps his arms around his chest as he slumps down again. He's shivering, but not as badly as he had been on set. "A little."

"Good." Jared kisses Jensen's forehead and brushes his hair back. "You want your tea now or when I get back?" He doesn't want to leave at all, not with Jensen so vulnerable, and especially not after what he'd seen earlier but he has to take care of things downstairs before he can turn in for the night, or they won't get any peace until Trick-or-Treating is over.

"When you get back." Jensen slides his hand along Jared's arm and squeezes his hand. "Hurry."

Jared presses his lips against Jensen's hot, dry forehead "I will," he promises as he slides away, his fingers resting against Jensen's skin, until he can't reach any more. "I'll be right back."

It almost hurts to walk out the door and he forces his feet to hurry as they carry him down the stairs. He has to return quickly. There is no other option tonight.

Jared is gone for ten minutes—Jensen checks the clock—but it feels more like an hour and by the time he's back, Jensen is curled up, the covers pulled almost completely over his head, and shivering. He was fine while Jared was touching him, but he swears, the moment Jared left, the room got ten degrees colder, and not even pulling his arms inside Jared's sweatshirt and letting the dogs press up against his back and legs helps.

It's only when Jared slides the covers back, running his warm hand along Jensen's arm, that Jensen feels even a little warm again. He rolls a little, pressing his back against Harley, and blinks up at Jared. "You're back."

"Yep." Jared slips his arm under Jensen's shoulders and pulls him upright, sending a wave of dizziness washing over Jensen. He clutches at Jared's shirt, and makes a noise of protest that has Jared cursing. "Sorry! Sorry." His hands rub up and down Jensen's back as he holds him close, letting Jensen bury his face in his shirt, until the dizziness passes, and Jensen is able to sit nominally upright, held in place by Jared's arm looped around his shoulders. "Here. Drink this."

All Jensen wants is to pull Jared down on the bed next to him so he can be warm and comfortable and actually sleep, but he knows what the look on Jared's face means, and he reaches out with a hand that amazingly doesn't shake and takes the small container of candy red liquid.

It tastes horrible, just as he knew it would, but then Jared presses something else to his lips, and still-warm honey lemon tea spills into his mouth, replacing the bitter flavor of the cough syrup with the slightly sweet flavor of the tea. It's not quite what he wanted, but it feels really good going down his throat, so instead of wrinkling his nose and demanding the kiss he knows he shouldn't get until he's better, he gulps down the tea and lets his head fall back against Jared's shoulder.

"Better?" Jared sets the cup on the nightstand and tugs Jensen down with him as he stretches out to lie with his head propped up on the pile of pillows that had somehow materialized between the time Jensen ducked under the covers and the time Jared pulled him out.

"Yeah," Jensen murmurs as he settles, his head resting on Jared's shoulder and the dogs pressed against his other side. He's warm again, finally, and amazingly comfortable wrapped in Jared's sweatshirt and squished between his boyfriend and their dogs. His eyes drift closed as he slides his arm across Jared's chest and nuzzles deeper. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Jared presses his lips to the top of Jensen's head. "Are you going to watch with me or just sleep?"

Jensen peels one eye open and peers at the television. Apparently, a movie also made it into the DVD player while he was huddled under the covers, because when Jared picks up the remote and thumbs on the television, the menu for Sleepy Hollow is already showing on the large screen.

"Really, Jared?" Jensen lifts his head enough that he can look Jared in the eyes. "This?"

"It's Halloween!" Jared protests, sliding his hand up Jensen's shoulder to push his head back down. "I promise I'll keep you safe from the Headless Horseman."

Jensen settles his head back on Jared's chest. "Promise?" He wants to tease and protest that if either of them needs protection, it's Jared, but he's too tired to snark, too fuzzy to come up with anything good, and too content to care. He pulls his hand back into the sleeve of the oversized sweatshirt and snuggles closer.

"Of course I do." The words are almost too soft for Jensen to hear, but they're reinforced by a soft squeeze around Jensen's shoulder and a gentle press of Jared's lips to Jensen's forehead. "Always."

Jensen tilts his head up and grins. It's probably the sappiest smile he's ever given, but since he's alone with just Jared and the dogs in a dark house with a Halloween movie playing on the television, he doesn't care. The only one who could possibly see him is Jared, and after today, Jared deserves it.

Jared grins back and kisses Jensen's forehead again. "Just rest," he whispers. "I turned off all the lights, so no one should stop here tonight."

"What about the candy?'

"I'll figure it out tomorrow." Jared cards his fingers through Jensen's hair as he presses play on the DVD remote. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm sorry you missed Halloween."

"Hey! I'm celebrating." Jared lifts a small bowl off the nightstand and settles it next to him on the bed. "I've got candy, a scary movie, and you cuddled up with me. What more could I want?"

Jensen could think of several things if he had the energy, but he can hear the happiness in Jared's voice, and the muted laughter and screeches of the children as they run up and down the street, and there doesn't seem to be any point in trying. It might get better than this, but for now, this is all Jensen could ask for.