Sam scrubbed the blood stain with bleach aggressively while Dean sat there waiting to use the Oxy Clean. Layla was in the bathroom taking a warm, soothing bath. She needed it. Her nerves were shot. All she could do was cry. Now she was truly alone. The one thing that kept her company and kept her safe was gone.
"You think it's our fault that demon came here?" Sam questioned.
"Want me to answer that honestly?" Dean took a short paused and breathed in deeply, "Yeah. It's definitely our fault."
"I should have listened to you."
"I'm the older one. You should always listen to me," Dean joked.
"I think I have more brains than you. You tend to let your ego get the best of you." Sam wasn't joking around. Dean was always so egotistical and he thought with his dick more than his brain.
"Don't start man."
Sam did as Dean pleased and didn't say one word. He continued to pour bleach on the stain in the middle of the floor and scrub his life away.
"Maybe we should leave." Dean suggested.
"Why? You know it'll just follow her because she knows stuff the demons want to know."
Dean just shook his head in agreement, "You're right. Maybe we should take her to Bobby's."
"I guess we could do that, but she is a college student. Do you think she'll be up for missing so much?" Sam always thought too much into things. He could never just go with the flow. The few times he did, big mistakes were made that cannot be taken back, like drinking blood from a demon.
At that moment, Layla walked into the bedroom adjourned in a red, Asian styled robe. Sam of course, kept on scrubbing the carpet. He felt like he would make her feel violated because they had such a close friendship.
Dean on the other hand couldn't help himself from staring. He allowed his eyes to wonder up Layla's long, toned legs until they met the bottom hem of her robe. It barely covered her rear or the front area of her. Dean's eyes then focused in on her face.
He earned a soft chuckle from Layla because she knew what he was thinking. She'd be thinking the same thing if she saw him half naked as well. The last time she saw him in a situation like that, Sam had to smack her because she would have drooled all over herself. That's what Dean did to her. His body did him no justice. His chiseled abdomen and well-toned biceps… she couldn't complain. He was a women's wet dream.
Layla and Dean tore themselves away from their thoughts at the same time. Dean was embarrassed. The heat rose in his face and his cheeks turned a deep shade of red.
"You know, you're cute when you blush," Layla blurted out.
"Uh…" Dean faked a cough, "Thanks."
Sam stood up quickly, "I think I'm going to get something to drink." He hurried out of the room and soon enough Layla approached Dean's crouching body.
She stood so close to Dean that when he looked up he saw her lace, black panties. He quickly tore his gaze away and brought it up to her reddened face.
Layla crouched down next to Dean. "I have to tell you something. Promise you won't get mad?"
"I could never be mad at you Lala," he smiled softly.
"I knew that demon was coming." She swallowed the rising bile in her throat.
"You knew the demon was coming and you didn't do anything about it?" Dean was confused. Surely if he knew something like this would happen, he would have stayed home. He would have been prepared to fight, but then he thought deeper into the situation. Layla was probably scared and wouldn't know how to protect herself.
"Chuck told me."
"Chuck Shurley, the prophet? How did you get connected with him?" Now Dean was curious and slightly jealous. He knew Layla's taste in men and Chuck Shurley was not it.
"He had gotten in touch with me when he wrote me into one of his stories. He told me God told him to warn me." Layla said in all seriousness.
"So you left your house to get drunk knowing what would happen and yelled at me when your dog died? That's really fucked up that you would blame me." Heat rose up in Dean's face once more, but this time it was because he was angry.
Tear welled up in Layla's eyes, "I don't want to argue. Chuck didn't say anything about it killing my dog and I didn't want you two to have a rough first night. I'm sorry. Please, don't get mad at me." She pleaded.
Dean sighed loudly, "I can't ever stay mad at you. You're lucky. I could stay mad at Sam for days."
Layla stifled a laugh as she stood up and walked over to her closet. She pulled out a pair of black sweat pants and an over-sized Dawn of the Dead tee-shirt. She had no shame at all as faced the wall and stripped herself of the robe. Dean's eyes got wide and he continued to stare as she pulled the sweat pants up over her firm behind. Then she slid the black shirt over her head. The dimples on her lower back were more apparent when she lifted her arms and arched her back.
Layla knew Dean was eyeing her up and she could really care less. If it were Sam she would probably kick him in the balls and tell him to fuck off, but that was only because her and Sam were just friends; best friends.
As she turned around, Dean turned his head quickly and pretended to scrub the stain on the carpet more.
"I know you better than that Mr. Winchester," Layla teased.
Dean just shook his head and chuckled. Layla was surely a tease. At the bar she was telling me things she wanted to do to me. That could have just been because we were drunk. Hell, we still were, but I suppose the whole 'dog being slaughtered thing' snapped everybody out of their drunken state of mind. Then there were times when she'd cuddle up to him and hold his hand. Every since they were kids she teased him. Dean was never nervous or scared to approached a girl, but Layla was different. She was innocent and fragile. If he made a mistake and got Layla hurt, he would never forgive himself.