a/n: Not going to lie, pretty boring chapter. Should be a better one tomorrow. 2/4

Layla Rourke: Faith Healed

Sam was already awake on his laptop, making phone calls, and following leads for another cure. He'd gotten maybe, what, three hours of sleep, he thought. It had been late when he dozed off and early when he got back up is all he knew.

Dean began to stir in his sleep. He groaned loudly enough to break Sam from his concentration. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked around dazedly.

"What time is it?" Dean asked groggily as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He still looked like shit, though. Didn't smell much better either.

Sam glanced at his watch a little surprised. The time had gotten away from him too. The sun cast long rays across the motel beds. His watch read 11:53.

"Almost noon," Sam answered and closed his laptop. "How are you feeling? Are you hungry? Do you feel okay to go out, or do you want me to pick something up? I think I saw a bbq place just down the road."

"Chill, Sammy, one question at a time." It always annoyed Dean when Sam rattled off a hundred questions and treated him like a child. "I just need a quality burger and a nice beer and I'll be fine."

"No beer," Dean glared angrily, but Sam ignored it. Alcohol was definitely not what Dean needed right then. "But I think we can find a diner somewhere in this town."

Reluctantly, Dean agreed and pulled himself out of bed. He seemed to only then notice that he hadn't showered or changed clothes since he bailed on the hospital. He didn't have the energy to care, though, and made his way towards the door leaning on beds, dressers, and walls the whole time.

Sam held the door open, but Dean pretended not to notice.

They found a diner rather quickly. "Mickey's Kitchen" the sign above the door read. "Best Weiners in the State!" announced another sign in the window with a picture of a large man, presumably Mickey, holding a foot long hot dog covered in chili and cheese.

Sam immediately recognized many of the other patrons from LeGrange's yesterday. It seems they weren't the only ones waiting for Roy to grant them a miracle. The whole town must be full of those desperate, but hopeful to be saved.

The hostess, a young ginger girl, took them to a booth in the back. She must have been used to waiting on sick people because Dean's shitty appearance didn't phase her. She passed out the menus and wished them well.

They sat in silence for a while, both too exhausted to hold a conversation. It gave Sam time to study Dean more closely. His eyes looked tired, and he slouched forward like the weight of his own body was too much to carry.

When the waitress came, Sam ordered for both of them. Cheeseburger, extra onions, for Dean, and the Cobb salad for himself.

Only a few minutes after ordering, the jingle of the door opening, signaling to the hostess a new group of customers had arrived, sounded. The hostess led the two new arrivals to the booth across the aisle from the Winchester boys.

"Dean? Sam?"

They looked over in unison. It was Layla and her mother from yesterday. Layla didn't look much different from the day before, but one could tell she was much happier than she had been. Her mother was actually smiling cheerfully.

"Fancy seeing you two here," Layla continued when neither of the boys responded.

"Oh, yeah, Layla," Sam stuttered out. His brain had been functioning slow all week from stress and lack of sleep. "What are you doing here? Weren't you healed? Shouldn't you be heading home?"

Layla blushed a little. "Yes, we just stayed the night. We went to the clinic after the session, and I got a head scan. The results just came back; I'm totally cured. We're here for some lunch, then headed back to Texas."

"That's great," Dean said. It sounded a lot harsher than he had intended. His throat was sore and he had a headache, anyways.

Layla suddenly frowned, "Sorry," she muttered, "I didn't mean to brag. I'm sure Roy will heal you soon. Just hang in there."

"Oh, it's no problem," Dean forced a smile. "Why don't you join us? I actually have some questions for you, if that's okay."

Feeling slightly guilty, Layla accepted the invitation. Sam switched seats to be next to his brother, and the Rourkes slipped into the other side. Layla sat across from Dean on the inside. He looked even worse than yesterday, she noticed. She truly hoped Roy would heal him next.

"When Roy, uh, healed you," Dean began, "you were looking at something, just behind him."

Layla dodged the implied question with a nervous giggle and called the waitress over to order.

"What did you see, Layla?" Sam asked more forcefully.

"It was nothing. I was just a little out of it."

"What did you think you saw?" Dean added. It was impressive how easily the brothers seemed to function as a single person when working.

"Well, I guess, maybe" Layla struggled to find the words. She didn't want to sound crazy in front of these two attractive men. "I thought I saw an angel."

Dean and Sam exchanged glances. Layla noticed and blushed more deeply.

"What did the angel look like?" Sam probed.

"Why are you so curious?" Layla dodged the previous question.

Dean cut off Sam's response, "I just want to be prepared for when I get, uh, healed or whatever."

"You know, you never told me what's wrong with you," Layla continued to deflect.

"Don't turn this around on me," Dean replied.

"I've answered all your questions," she cooed. All traces of previous embarassment gone. "Now you have to answer one of mine."

"Heart attack."

Layla's mother gasped in shock, which startled everyone who had momentarily forgotten she was there. "At your age?"

Dean smiled and for a moment looked like his old charming self. "What I can I say? I love burgers."

As though it had been planned, the waitress arrived with the food at that exact moment and slid a large, juicy cheeseburger in front of Dean.

"Now tell me about this angel you saw."

"Fine," Layla said and shot a quick glance towards her mother, who had once again left the conversation and was focused entirely on the food in front of her. She must have still been exhausted after all those months worrying about her daughter, but now that Layla had finally been cured, she could rest, take care of herself, and enjoy life again. Sam could empathise.

"He didn't really look like the angels you see in church paintings. He looked old. Like really old. His entire face was covered in wrinkles, and he was completely bald. He had on a black suit. I only saw him for a moment, but I don't think I'll ever forget his face," Layla recounted her story.

"Did the angel have black eyes?"

"No."

The brothers thought for a moment before Dean whispered under his breath to Sam. "Reaper?"

"What was that?" Layla asked.

"Just a cough," Dean quickly blurted out then mustered up a few fake coughs for good measure.

For the rest of the meal, they dropped the subject of supernatural happenings, and listened as Layla and her mother told them what they planned to do now that she had been healed. It seemed they would return home to Texas where Layla would help her mother run their town's small bed and breakfast. It had been closed since Layla was diagnosed with brain cancer, so they were running a bit thin on cash. But no complaints. They were happy enough to have each other.

Sam promised they'd stop by if they ever found themselves in the area. He was conscious of his use of plural pronouns. There was no doubt in his mind Dean would still be with him months and years from then.

The Rourke's finished their meals quickly and stood to leave.

"Well, good bye, I guess," Layla said more towards Dean than Sam. "And I'll be praying for you."

"It was great to meet you, and thank you for having lunch with us. Good luck in Texas," Sam answered for the both of them.

After the women left, Sam slid back to his original side of the booth. He had already eaten his salad, and was patiently waiting for Dean to finish his burger. Dean had spent the whole meal casually playing with his food. He managed a few bites of the burger before he set it aside. He picked at the fries and rearranged them constantly.

"You ready to go?" Dean broke the silence.

Sam glanced down worriedly at the amount of food still remaining. "You need to eat," he urged.

"I'm not a child, Sammy," Dean retorted, "you don't need to take care of me. You certainly don't need to feed me."

Sam continued to stare at his brother with concern.

"Fine! You win!" Dean grabbed his burger and took an exaggeratedly large bite to spite Sam. He swallowed it dramatically, then paused and closed his eyes. A sudden burst of light-headedness made the room spin around him. He thought he might pass out or at least be sick.

Sam felt awful for forcing Dean to eat. He should recognize that Dean had been feeling nauseous and the food was only making him sicker. He watched his brother sway slightly and he feared he might actually pass out.

After Dean centered himself again, thankfully without losing consciousness, Sam decided he'd had enough. He paid the bill and they left. He briefly considered asking for a to-go box for Dean's remaining burger and fries but ultimately decided it would be better to simply buy new food if Dean got hungry. Something less greasy and fatty would likely be better for the nausea as well.

When they got back to the motel, Dean collapsed on his bed. He kept getting worse, and he knew he couldn't hide it from Sammy for much longer. His chest ached, and his limbs felt heavy. Every move seemed to take ten times the effort it usually did. Sometimes it felt like he couldn't get enough oxygen into his body even though his lungs were working fine. All he wanted to do was sleep.

"What do you think?" Dean asked while lying on his back staring at the ceiling.

Sam still wasn't on board with going on a hunt with Dean in this condition. Honestly, he thought Dean might be too tired at this point to even discuss killing a monster, and that he could just let the subject go until he found a way to save his brother. Sam was pretty sure by then that Dean had been correct in his initial conclusion, that, yes, there was something supernatural occurring here, but he thought Dean's health should take priority over everything else.

"Reaper, most likely," Sam obliged Dean's desire for conversation.

"That's what I thought. But why would a reaper be saving people? Aren't reapers suppose to, you know, reap souls?"

"Maybe he's being controlled somehow," Sam offered. "Or through some kind of deal, like a cross-roads demon."

"Either way," Dean speculated, "it can't be good. These things always come with a price."

"I'm going to see if I can find any unusual happenings or deaths that could correlate to the reaper healings." This would give Dean time to rest while Sam searched the internet and local papers.

"Sounds good, college boy. You hit the books, and I'll catch up on some Casa Erotica. I heard the new one's suppose to be the best, but I doubt they can beat the eighth: Tequila Bun Rise. That was classic," Dean joked from his bed.

Sam knew it was all part of the act; Dean didn't even bother to pretend to reach for the remote before he was asleep again.

Sam cracked his back and made himself comfy. He was in for another long night. Not just research, but also watching over his brother. He obsessed over every breath, and found his concentration frequently wavering away from his laptop and onto the rise of fall of his brother's chest.

There was no way in hell Sam was going to let Dean pass uneventfully in his sleep. Their lives were too fucked up for that. Sam wouldn't sleep until he knew he could guarantee Dean would be there when he woke up.