I slammed the door to my apartment and collapsed against it sighing deeply. I tore a strip of cloth from my shirt and tied it tightly around my bleeding leg. Blood was pooling underneath me. I grunted in pain as I pulled the makeshift bandage tighter.
"Want help with that?" A gruff voice asked. I looked up surprised and saw Dean standing in the doorway to my living room. I froze, staring at him. He smirked at me and walked towards me, crouching down to help me with my bandage. "Come on you've got to have something better than this to patch yourself up with." I reached up and gently touched his cheek. He smiled at me, all joking and teasing leaving his face. "It's good to see you Layla." I smiled and wrapped my arms around him with alarming speed. He chuckled as I held onto him.
"It's good to see you too! What are you doing here?" I asked, pulling out of the hug. He sighed and held his hand out to me to help me up. I grabbed it and groaned as I put weight on my injured leg.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Standard poltergeist downtown. But the bugger was a little stronger than usual. Got the best of me. There was a lot of broken glass," I explained simply with a shrug. He chuckled.
"You're getting weak. You need to hunt regularly. Go out on the road and hunt everywhere, everything. No more of this just hunting in Salem," he teased. He sat me down on a chair in my living room and moved to sit across from me on the couch.
"I couldn't help it. Salem! Come on it's like a center for this stuff. These poor souls don't even really know what hits them," I explained excitedly. He chuckled and nodded then went quiet. "Why are you here Dean? I haven't seen you in years."
"I need your help," he said quietly. I reached over to take one of his hands. He looked up at me and his gorgeous green eyes met mine. I felt my heart clench in my chest.
"Anything," I replied simply. His eyes grew sad.
"I wouldn't come to you if it wasn't really important," he continued.
"Dean! What's wrong? You're scaring me. Last I heard you were hunting with your dad. And Sammy was in school. Are they okay?" I asked. He didn't answer right away. I got out of my chair and limped over to the couch. I sat down next to him and took both his hands in mine. "Are they okay?"
"As far as I know Sam is fine," he answered. I nodded.
"Your dad then." He nodded once in response.
"Um yeah, dad went on a hunting trip a few days ago and I haven't heard from him since," he explained in his gruff voice.
"And of course you have called him. Where do we start?" I asked.
"We have to go get Sam. It's Dad. He will help," Dean continued. I nodded in agreement, I looked at my hands wrapped around his and I slowly pulled away.
"Why did you come here?" I asked.
"Where do you keep your bandages?" he asked, avoiding my question and standing up off the couch. He wandered out of the living room.
"Bottom drawer in the bathroom," I called after him. I looked down at my bloody leg and sighed. He came back in, his hands filled with medical supplies. He dropped them on the coffee table in the center of the room. He looked at me and cleared his throat nervously.
"You are going to have to take off your pants," he said quickly. I rolled my eyes at him. Dean wasn't nervous around girls. Just me. I don't know if that made me special or weird. I untied the cloth bandage that covered the wound and slid my blood crusted pants down off my legs before tossing them in a pile beside the couch. Dean had turned his head to give me privacy. I cleared my throat to get his attention. "Right. Okay."
"This is ridiculous. I can do this myself," I complained. He shook his head.
"No, I'm here. I will do it. Besides we need to get on the road and you would take forever on your own," he said, a slight hint of teasing in his voice. He sat back down next to me and grabbed some alcohol wipes to clean the injury. I bit my lip as the alcohol stung the open wound but didn't make a noise. Dean didn't notice. All his attention was on the gash on the inside of my knee.
"Dean, you didn't answer me. Why did you come here first? Why did you come here at all?" I asked. He was silent for a moment longer. He was threading his needle so he could stitch up the gash. "Dean," I said a little harsher.
"I don't know Layl. I found out Dad was missing and I got into the car and started driving thinking the one person I needed was Sam. I found myself parked outside of your apartment instead," he explained. He turned to look at me. His green eyes were confused and sad as he met my own eyes.
"It's been years Dean. I thought you forgot about me," I admitted. He looked hurt and turned back to my leg. He stuck the needle in and I winced biting my lip harshly. Dean instantly wrapped an arm around my leg to hold it still and the needle in his other hand. He rubbed his thumb soothingly over the bare skin of my thigh as he closed the wound.
"You know why I left. Dad thought you were getting in the middle of the family. He couldn't have that. He made me leave you behind," he tried to reason. I shook my head.
"I never liked your old man. He was always so hard on you," I hissed between clenched teeth as the needle pierced my flesh.
"He's the only one who stuck with me Layla. Sam left me," he defended. I grabbed his shoulder.
"I would have stayed, you know I would have," I argued. He shrugged my hand off him and tied the knot in the thread before grabbing bandages. He started gently wrapping it around my leg. I was secretly loving the warmth of his hands on my cold skin.
"Go get dressed. We have to go," Dean ordered placing my leg gently on the ground. I nodded to him and gave him a mock salute.
"Yes, sir," I teased standing slowly and limping out of the room.
I heard Dean cleaning the living room quietly behind me and I sighed. I walked into the bathroom first and scrubbed the drying blood from my skin before popping a few Advil for the pain. I looked at myself in the mirror and sighed. I had a nice bruise spreading up my jaw and my eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. I pull the clip out of my tangled red hair and let it fall over my shoulders. I pulled a brush through it and brought it back up into a ponytail. I tossed my brush, tooth brush, toothpaste and razor into a small bag before finally making it to my room. I pulled my emergency bag out from under my bed, already packed and ready for a quick escape. All my important documents were tucked neatly in the bottom covered in clothes and weapons. I walked to the closet and pulled out a simple pair of jeans and blue, plaid shirt. I pulled them on, grunting as I stretched sore muscles. I looked through my room one last time before grabbing my journal and shoving it into my bag and shutting the light off.
"Okay, I'm ready. Let's go," I called to Dean, not sure where he was in the small apartment. I tugged on a pair of runners and turned to see him walking out of the kitchen. He was holding something in his hand. "What's that?" He turned it around to show a picture of me and an ex looking at each other lovingly. I rolled my eyes and took it from him. "Of course you were snooping."
"Who is it?" he asked, quietly. I shoved the photo in my pocket, out of sight.
"Just a guy Dean. It doesn't matter, he's not around anymore. There were conflicts," I explained vaguely. He looked at me and then down to my bag.
"Layla-" I put up my hand stopping him.
"Don't even start Dean. You know this life. You don't get attached to little things like that. I have nothing holding me here. I'm with you the whole way," I snapped. He glared at me.
"Why!? Why the hell do you want to do anything for me? After what happened?" he bit back. I narrowed my eyes in return.
"Dean, we were friends. Best friends. We went through a lot together and I wasn't willing to let go. I owe you so much Dean so just shut up and accept my help," I shouted, having the final word. He looked at me surprised.
"Wow, what happened to the shy girl who wouldn't raise her voice ever?" he asked. The anger dropped from my face and I looked down at my shoes.
"Oh, um sorry," I whispered quickly. I felt Dean's hand on my arm and I looked back up at him.
"It's alright. It's probably better this way. People won't be pushing you around anymore." I gave him a small smile.
"Maybe I will have to tell your dad off when we finally find him," I teased. He chuckled and picked my bag up off the floor. I opened the front door to the apartment and we stepped around the puddle of blood and into the hall. I took a deep breath as I closed the door. My hand rested gently on the handle.
"Are you sure there is nothing here for you? You can stay," Dean offered quietly. I looked up at the door and shook my head.
"There's nothing anymore. Let's go."
We went downstairs and he tossed my bag into the back of the impala. I ran my hand along the roof of the car and smiled.
"Hello baby, long time no see," I said happily. Dean looked at me and smiled while shaking his head.
"Hate to break this up but we are wasting time. Get in," he said opening his door and slipping into his seat. I smiled and leaned into the car.
"He's just jealous," I said loud enough for him to hear. He chuckled from inside the car and got into the passenger seat beside him. He started the car and I looked out the window at my old home. A pit formed in my stomach as we started driving off.
"How does your leg feel?" he asked. I looked down at my bandaged knee and shrugged.
"I've had worse," I replied. I could see him look at me sadly and I fiddled with the fabric of my jeans, ignoring him. "So where is Sam? What school did he get into?"
"Oh, uh, he is in Stanford," he said, clearing his throat. My eyes widened and I finally looked up at him.
"Stanford?" I asked, just to be sure. He nodded. "Dean, that is across the country!" He didn't answer, he just looked out the window. "Seriously Dean, it's probably a two day drive!"
"I know! I know but I need him!" he exclaimed. I looked at him curiously.
"Did you drive a long way to get me?" I asked, slowly. He looked over at me.
"I really don't want to talk about this. I made a decision. Now the three of us will find Dad. Who knows, maybe he will answer the phone before we get Sam and we won't have to bother him," he replied, gruffly. I nodded and looked away from him.
I sat silently not wanting to say anything to make him mad. I missed Dean a lot. He had been the only one to keep me sane all those years ago. I had lost both my parents. He saved my life. He was my only real friend left. I needed him as much as he claimed to need me. I thought about the photo in my pocket and curled my hands into fists.
The photo was of me and my ex-finance Jason. We were only months away from getting married when he was taken by a nest of vampires and converted. I didn't know what to do. I hesitated and he almost killed me. I managed to stop him and had to kill him in defence. After word of his death got out people stopped talking to me and I was on my own. All except the strange man who visits me in my nightmares. I used to think he was just a bad dream but in my line of work, bad dreams are as real as anything else. The yellow-eyed man had been keeping an eye on me since Jason's death. I sighed and leaned back in my seat, shaking my head trying to get all images of the man out of my head. I had loved Jason. I thought he loved me too, before he tried to kill me. I closed my eyes tight.
"Are you okay?" Dean asked, pulling me from my thoughts. I opened my eyes and looked at him.
"Yes," I answered simply.
"You're lying," he replied. I narrowed my eyes at him.
"I may be a woman Dean but that doesn't mean I'm talking to you about my feelings," I snapped back. He just looked at me. "No chick flick moments, remember," I teased, giving him a small smile to try and ease the mood. He rolled his eyes.
"You haven't changed." I smirked at him.
"Tell me how it's been," I shifted in the seat to look at him. "It's been close to four years."
"I know, and you've grown no less annoying," he stated. My jaw dropped in mock offense and I reached over and smacked him. "It's been good. We've hunted a lot and Dad has been…" he stopped and cleared his throat, "He has been good. That is until he disappeared of course." I nodded a pit forming in my stomach. I knew what kind of father he was. Dean was blindly devoted to this devil of a man. His father had done nothing for him. And would do nothing for him. I tilted my head looking over Dean's face. The shadows had grown darker, deeper. "What about you? Something happened over the last four years I'm sure," he started.
"How was he after Sam left?" I asked ignoring him. His jaw tensed and he looked over at me.
"He wasn't happy," was all he replied. I nodded and looked out the front window of the Impala. It really had been awhile since I had seen a view like this. "Since we are getting right down to the nitty gritty details so early on in our reunion, who was the man in that photo?"
"You would," I replied, rolling my eyes but feeling my stomach clench. I rested my hand on the pocket the photo was in. "Um, we were in a relationship for awhile. It didn't work out."
"You don't keep a photo if a relationship 'doesn't work out'" he said sarcastically. I nodded.
"I must have missed one." I caught him looking over at me from the corner of my eye and I turned to look at him. I gave a small insecure laugh. "What?"
"Why are we hiding things from each other?" he asked. My smile fell.
"It's been four years Dean," I answered. He nodded.
"Yeah," he trailed off. We both looked out the windshield, silently.
His hands rested lightly on the wheel while mine were folded in my lap. The silence wasn't as uncomfortable as it was sad. This is the same Dean who saved me all those years ago, who made me laugh after nights of crying over my lost parents. And I'm the same girl who got forced to leave because I was so close with Dean, because I was 'pulling him away from the family'. I sighed and looked at my chipped fingernails. We weren't those people anymore. We had both grown up. Changed. What was I doing? Why was I even here? He hadn't spoken to me since the day I left. Not one word, then he shows up in my house and I run back. I ran back. I shook my head.
"Dean?" He looked over at me. "I shouldn't be here."
"What do you mean?" I met his eyes.
"Say we find your father, what then? You drop me back off in Salem and say 'Have a nice life,' then drive off with Daddy into the sunset. I get he is your father Dean but I am a person. I am someone who cared about you and we both know how that turned out last time," I sighed. The voice of the demon growled lowly in the back of my head. Usually he was so quite and comforting but I felt the growl rumble through me. I shivered. This was threatening.
"Layla please," Dean started.
"I just…" I stopped and shook my head, "Never mind let's just get Sam." He sighed.
"What were you going to say?" he asked. I shook my head again. "Layla." I looked at him again, an eyebrow arched at his stern tone.
"Dean." I replied with as much authority.
"Tell me."
"No." He groaned and ran his hand through his hair.
"You are being impossible, just tell me!" he shouted.
"I don't want to be left alone again Dean okay!" I shouted back. He didn't reply. I sat back in the seat, looking out the window.
"Don't make him angry beautiful. Stick with him. Maybe then you won't be listening to the voices in your head," the yellow-eyed demon muttered in the back of my mind. I closed my eyes tightly.
"I'm sorry. Forget I said anything. It's a long drive. We should focus on that, on getting Sam," I told him.
"Layla?" Dean asked. I turned further away from him. Looking straight out the side window. "Layla please."
"I think I'm going to take a nap. That poltergeist took a lot out of me. It's been kind of a crazy day," I laughed lightly and awkwardly. "Good night." I rested down in the seat, getting comfortable.
"Night," Dean mumbled. I bit my lip and shut my eyes, letting the purr of the engine guide me to sleep.