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The Right Thing
Member No.: 15,809
Joined: 2-February 07
Title: The Right Thing
Author: Cass (iluveJaredxx)
Rating: PG-13 for course language
A/N: This was season one inspired, episode Faith. I forgot the awesomeness that was the first season. Also, I'm not exactly thrilled with the title, so I am opened to any and all suggestions! Feedback much appreciated! Enjoy!
Summary: Dean regrets what he did, regrets stopping Layla's only chance at a fresh start. After two months on the road, he decides to seek her out in attempt to find closure but what he finds instead could shatter him- shatter them both.
He didn’t condone the idea of playing God but as he looked into the woman’s hopeful eyes something inside of him shifted and he found himself warming up to the idea. In fact he was actually considering it when Sam’s words echoed in his head and he knew he had no choice. Taking a deep breath he yelled, “Fire!”
Layla’s eyes met his from the platform at the front of the tent and his heart broke inside because if anyone deserved to live more than him it was her. She was tender and sweet- everything that Dean wasn’t. She didn’t deserve what was happening to her and he suddenly wished with such fierceness that he had let the Reverend continue with his sermon.
“Why did you do this?” A menacing voice, a layer of fresh panic underneath it,
asked from behind him. “How could you do this?”
Dean didn’t answer because there was nothing he could say; instead he allowed the two officers behind him to escort him from the tent and off the property. It was a question he knew that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
~ ~ ~
For days Sam had tried to tell him that he had done the right thing. But the thing was, he knew that he had done the right thing and he was tired of hearing it. Hearing it didn’t make things better and it sure as hell didn’t make him feel any better. Layla still only had six months to live when she could have had another sixty years. He had taken that away from her and there was no going back. So what if another innocent person had to die in her place? Who cares if what he was feeling right now as selfish. How could, he wondered, God be so f***ing cruel?
He was tired of tip-toeing around his brother and pretending that he was okay- or that he was going to be okay. He was tired of this job, of this life and constantly sleeping in hotel room after hotel room. He was bone f***ing tired of this life. He didn’t say so as much to Sammy because he knew that his baby brother relied on him- knew that in a way they relied on each other. Some days, he was lucky enough to forget about Layla. Some days it was as though he had never met her. But she always managed to find her way back into his head; and then he would remember how he sealed her death sentence so completely and so easily it made him sick. c
Two months had passed since the last time he had seen her and the need to see her again was strong. So he tracked her down, located her and even driven by her house a couple times. He hadn’t been man enough to go to her door. But here he was again, parked outside her place trying to muster all the courage he had to walk up to her door and ring the door bell. Who cares if he didn’t know what he was going to say, he would figure it out when he got there. He always figured something out even when words abandoned him. But it was as if some kind of force he couldn’t see was keeping him inside his car. It was beginning to drive him insane. Maybe he was insane? Would Layla even want to see him? Would she be glad that he showed up on her front porch? Or would she slam the door in his face for ruining her chance at a new life. Honestly, he wouldn’t blame her if she did.
His cell phone rang and he glanced at it absently before ignoring the call. He didn’t need to answer it to know what his brother was going to say. What the hell, he thought and opened the door to his car. He made it as far as the curb before freezing and questioning himself. Maybe Sam was right, maybe seeing Layla wasn’t a good idea at all. Maybe this illusion of some kind of closure was never going to come. Maybe he would just have to live with this injustice for rest of his life. He was just about to turn around and head back to his car when the sound of a door opening made him pause. He didn’t need to turn around to know that Layla was standing only a few feet away from him.
“Dean?” she asked her voice as soft and angelic as he remembered it.
He felt his knees buckle and it was all he could do to keep himself upright. He wanted to turn around, desperately so but his body wouldn’t cooperate with him. Instead, he said confirmed who he was with his back still towards her. He heard the sound of feet against pavement and knew that she would be at his side in a few seconds. His heart began to thud in his chest and tears welled in his eyes.
“What are you doing here?” She asked as she pressed a gentle hand on his arm. “Dean, why won’t you look at me?”
He couldn’t answer because the lump in his throat prevented him from doing so. I can’t look at you because when I do, I remember what I did and I can’t stand it. He felt her tug on his arm slightly and steer him in the direction of her front porch.
“Come inside, it’s freezing outside. “ With her hand still firmly on his arm she led him into her house and into her living room. She knew why he was here even though he wouldn’t speak to her. She always imaged what she would do if he were to one day show up on her porch and inviting him into her home hadn’t been one of them. Oh, she wanted to be angry with him for what he had done. He had taken her life away in a way and a part of her never would truly forgive him. But she knew that God would want her to forgive him and so she would try. Her life was too short to be holding onto grudges and anger. After all, despising Dean Winchester wasn’t going to give her her life back and it sure as hell wasn’t going to make her feel any better about her situation.
“Did you want something to drink?” She asked.
Rubbing his clammy hands on his jeans Dean found his voice, “No, no thank you.” I just came to apologize for ruining your life and never truly explaining to you why I did it. God, he wished he had the courage to look into her eyes and tell her everything. He wanted to tell her about what he did for a living and more than anything he wanted to explain about that night where he changed everything for them both. But he knew he couldn’t do that and not because she wouldn’t understand- but because he couldn’t stand to see her look at him with pity in her eyes. She would think he was crazy, there was no doubt about it.
“Why are you here, Dean?” She asked finally, not being able to stand the silence that only seemed to drag on.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly because all his reasoning had abandoned him completely. He felt his throat constrict as a wave of emotion rolled through him and he fought the tears that threatened to spill but it was no use; they began to run freely down his freckled cheeks.
Layla noticed the tears and her heart broke a little. Reaching over she grabbed a tissue from the coffee table and dabbed lightly at the fallen tears on Dean’s face. The feel of his skin against her hand had a jolt flowing through her body that shocked her to the core and she snatched her hand away. “I’m sorry,” she murmured realizing how rude that must come off.
Dean smiled for the first time in weeks and a low chuckle escaped his lips. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not you that should be apologizing anyways, it’s me.” Operating purely on instinct, Dean grabbed Layla’s hand and covered it with his own.
She glanced down at the hand that was covering her own and noticed for the first time how big his hands were- and how safe they felt. Her heart began to beat widely. “Apologize for what?”
“I need to apologize for that night, Layla. I took something away from you, something that I can see you clearly deserved more than anything- more than anyone.” He was breathless now as the words came easily, flowing to his tongue and off his lips. “You’re the most amazing person I have ever met and it kills me to know that I took away your only chance at starting a new life. I’m so sorry, Layla, so sorry.” The tears were coming harder now but he didn’t care. “I’m so sorry,” he sobbed and covered his face with his hands in an attempt to hide his shame.
Layla found herself at a loss as she watched the man beside her sob uncontrollably. Not once, in the two months since her fate was sealed, had she considered Dean’s feelings. Not once did she fathom that he would regret his actions and feel so strongly about them. Layla had assumed that once he left town he had forgotten about her and moved on with his life. But here he was, sitting on her couch and she knew she couldn’t have been more wrong. She felt an overwhelming sense of guilt as she reached out to comfort Dean. She ran a delicate hand over Dean’s shoulders in an attempt to soothe the sobs that racked through his body.
“Shhh,” she whispered, “its okay.” It was the first time, she realized, that she truly meant it. Moving from the couch, Layla knelt down in front of Dean and cupped his face in her hands forcing him to meet her eyes. “Please Dean, listen to me carefully. In the last two months I have done nothing but blame you for what happened. I assumed that you didn’t care that you ruined my one chance to be free, my only chance to live my life again without waiting to die.
“I assumed that you didn’t care. I was so, so wrong, Dean. I’m so glad that you came here tonight because it has given me the closure that I needed. In a lame cliché way, you allowed me to see the light where I thought there was only darkness.” She paused, fighting for the right words to say. “In the last couple weeks I’ve found my faith in the Lord again and I’m seeking forgiveness. Not only from the Lord but from you because I have spent way too much of what little time I have left being so angry with the both of you. I don’t want to be angry anymore, Dean. I’m tired of being angry.” She sighed deeply as a tear trickled down her cheek and dripped onto her lips. She felt has if a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders and for the first time since she’d been diagnosed she was okay.
Dean could barely breathe as he listened to Layla’s words and let them sink in. She was forgiving him and asking him to forgive her in turn. This woman, he thought, continued to amaze him. She was so strong and brave that it inspired him. Without realizing what he was doing, Dean reached up to cover the delicate hands on his face. Inch by unbearable inch his face drew closer to Layla’s as he whispered, “I forgive you.”
She was painfully aware of Dean’s closeness and it both pleased her and terrified her. With a shaky breath Layla pulled away from Dean to sit on the coffee table. When she felt sturdy enough to speak, she looked him directly in the eyes and said, “Thank you, Dean.”
They continued to stare at each other, both of them unsure of where to go from here. He knew that the feelings going on inside of him were insane and wrong in some way but as he looked into Layla’s beautiful eyes, he didn’t care. He wondered why it had taken him so long to realize it before- to realize that he loved her. He was in love with her.
“Layla,” he murmured and reached up to push a strand of her blond hair away from her face before resting gently on her chin. His eyes travelled away from her eyes to lock on to her lips, her full delicate soft lips and suddenly he would do anything to feel those lips move against his. He leaned forward slightly his mouth a breath away from Layla’s- waiting for her to back out of the kiss but she didn’t and her lips met his with such intensity that it took his breath away.
What was am I doing? Warning bells were going off in her head and she knew she should stop but couldn't muster up the strength to do it. Someone wanted her, someone who knew her condition and didn't run away from her screaming. No one wants to be with a girl who’s dying. The voice inside her head was taunting her and it gave her the strength she needed to break the kiss.
“I think you should go,” Layla panted, tears thick in her voice. “I want you to go.”
“What?” Dean was confused. “Layla, please.... don’t.”
“I can’t do this and I don’t care if you understand it- I just need you to respect it.” With that Layla walked to her front door and opened it. “Please.”
Member No.: 15,809
Joined: 2-February 07
Title: The Right Thing
Author: Cass (iluveJaredxx)
Rating: PG-13 for course language
A/N: Season one inspired! Any feedback appreciated! Enjoy!
Description: Dean regrets what he did, regrets stopping Layla's only chance at a fresh start. After two months on the road, he decides to seek her out in attempt to find closure but what he finds instead could shatter him- shatter them both.
After Dean left, it was all Layla could do to keep from falling apart. She had accepted the fact that she was sick and even managed to be okay with it; and one kiss had managed to tear down her newfound acceptance of her fate. It was hard enough knowing that she only had approximately four months to live but, it was even harder knowing that she would die without ever truly experiencing love.
Seeing Dean tonight had shown her what she was missing and what she would continue to miss out on. It hurt her more than she was willing to admit. She needed to be strong because if she wasn’t she would crumble and break and more than anything she needed to be under control. When Dean had kissed her she had wanted to succumb to her emotions and surrender. She wanted more than anything to feel her body pressed against his. But it was more than that, more than just sex and that’s why she had told Dean to leave.
She couldn’t explain how or when it happened. Maybe it was two months ago or maybe it was tonight but she had fallen in love with him. Sleeping with him, allowing him to get involved with her would be cruel. So, she had kicked him out and had no intention of seeing him again. He was probably long gone anyways, she thought sadly. She hadn’t really given him anything to stick around for had she?
Walking into the bathroom, Layla rummaged through her medicine cabinet in search of the medication her doctor had prescribed to help dull the pain of her headaches that have been coming more frequently now. Opening the pill bottle she dumped two tiny pills into her hand and filled up a glass of water before heading into her bedroom. She was exhausted and more than anything she prayed for sleep to come easily tonight. In her dreams, she knew, she would be greeted by a man and welcomed by a life that she wished she could have.
~ ~ ~
He didn’t plan on going back to the hotel room but as his eyes began to droop as he was behind the steering wheel he knew he didn’t have a choice. Pulling into the parking lot of High Nine motel he turned the engine off and headed in the direction room twenty three. He was just about to put the key in lock when the door opened and tired Sam stood in front of him.
Dean was prepared for the questions but his brother surprised him by pulling him into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around Sam’s shoulders and he hung on as if his life depended on it. Words couldn’t even begin to explain how much he needed this, this complete understanding from his brother.
It was the first time in months that Sam had kept his questions to himself and maybe it was the way his brother looked so defeated, so lost when he had opened the door. Or maybe, he realized, it was because for the first time he truly understood what his brother was going through. He only wished he would have realized this sooner and saved his brother the hassle that he didn’t deserve. Pulling back slightly he grabbed onto his brother’s shoulders, “I’m so sorry, Dean.”
Dean didn’t bother hiding his confused and asked, “Sorry for what?”
“For not understanding what you were going through sooner and riding your ass about it,” Sam murmured, regret easily read in his eyes. “More than anyone, Dean I know what you are going through and I shouldn’t have been so hard on you.”
Dean didn’t need to ask to know that he was referring to Jessica and the dreams he had prior to her death, “Its okay, Sammy.” Releasing his brother he stepped around him and headed towards his bed. He was exhausted and right now he wanted to sleep. Sitting down on the bed he kicked off his boots and made himself comfortable- not bothering to take off the rest of his clothes.
Sam turned the light off and made his way to his own bed. “Goodnight, Dean.” But his brother was already sleeping, his soft snoring the only sound in the room.
~ ~ ~
The next afternoon Dean found himself on Layla’s porch with a bouquet of daises in his hands. It hadn’t been his intention on coming here today but something had drawn him here. But as he fidgeted uncomfortably on her front porch he wondered after what happened last night if Layla would slam the door in his face. Before he could chicken out, Dean reached up the pressed the door bell and waited.
Layla glanced through the peep hole in the door and gasped. Should she open it? Everything inside of her said yes. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. “Hello.”
“Layla,” Dean smiled as he helped up the daises. “I saw these and thought of you.”
“Oh,” she blushed as took the flowers from him. “They’re beautiful, thank you. Uh,” she gestured inside, “would you liked to come in?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he said honestly. “I thought you’d slam the door in my face when you saw it was me on your doorstep.”
Layla laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. Have a seat I am just going to put these in some water.” As Dean made his way into her living room, Layla headed towards the kitchen. The flowers were stunning and she found herself feeling as giddy as a girl in high-school. The gesture had been unexpected and Layla was thrilled. But as she rummaging through her cabinets for the right vase her doubts dimmed her earlier excitement. It’s not fair to him. Layla shook her head and tried to clear her thoughts. It may not be fair to either of them, but Dean knew she was sick so it wasn’t as if she was hiding it from him. He was coming here on his own; no one was holding a gun to his head. You need to remind him about what he is getting himself into, before things go any further. She knew the voice in her head was right and she sighed heavily abandoning the flowers.
Entering the leaving room, Layla leaned against the wall and wrapped her arms around herself suddenly feeling cold. She hated that she had to do this, hated the position that she was in.
Dean sensed her turmoil and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
Layla met his eyes, fresh tears making her eyes sparkle. “Why are you here, Dean?”
“Because I wanted to see you, “he replied feeling more than a little scared now.
She hugged herself tighter and wished for the first time in her life that she had never met Dean. If Dean had never made his way into her life, into her heart, this horrible feeling that she was going to miss out on so much wouldn’t be tormenting her as she stood in her own living room, eyes locked onto his. “Whatever is going on here, between us has to stop.”
“Why Layla? I don’t understand what’s going on.” He couldn’t breathe anymore, couldn’t hear over the sound of his frantic heart beat.
“There’s no point, Dean! I’m dying, don’t you remember? I can’t stand standing here, being so close to you knowing that I can’t truly have you.” Layla was crying now, hot angry tears. She didn’t know who she was more angry at- herself, Dean or God.
Dean rose from the couch and made his way to stand in front of Layla. Each movement he made felt as though he was being weighed down by something. “I haven’t forgotten.” He fisted his hands at his sides. “But if you think that’s going to keep me away from you, you’re wrong. I wake up in the morning and you’re the first person I think about, the first person I want to see.
“I fell in love with you, Layla, the moment I saw you. I still loved you after you told me you were dying. I still love you now. So, please, please don’t push me away.” He grabbed her hand and brought it up to his lips. “I want to cherish every moment we have left together. Please, Layla, please let me.”
Layla had no words that could possibly sum up what she was feeling right now so instead she leaned her forehead against his chest and wept. Dean loved her, she thought through the muddled haze in her mind. Dean Winchester loved her and he wasn’t going anywhere. When she could manage to speak, Layla lifted her head up so she could look into Dean’s eyes. “I love you, too,” she said with perfect clarity. “Will you stay with me?”
“Of course,” Dean smiled.
“Do you promise?” Layla needed him to say it, needed to have the security of his words.
“I promise,” and with that he brought his mouth down to hers gently.
~ ~ ~
Layla was content and happy. Stretching she was amazed but how relaxed her body felt and knew she had Dean to thank for that. She smiled as she rested her heat on his chest and listened to his heart beat steadily against her ear. She didn’t care how short their time was together, just as long as he was here with her. But would he be there, she wondered, when her illness progressed and things got worse?
“Dean?” She asked lazily, tracing small circles around his nipples.
“Yeah?” He murmured and shifted so he could see her clearly.
“Well,” she paused searching for the right way to ask. “When things start to get bad, will you stay with me?”
Dean gathered her closer as fear rippled through him. “I can’t imagine myself being anywhere else.” Though God knows he will want to be when the time came. Losing Layla was going to take its toll on him, more than he anticipated but as he looked at her he knew that every minute with her would be worth it. He just wished he could save her.
“I love you, Dean.” Layla sighed as she kissed his cheeks then his lips.
Member No.: 15,809
Joined: 2-February 07
Title: The Right Thing
Author: Cass (iluvJaredxx)
They spent every day and night together, never being apart for more than an hour or two. In the moments where she was wrapped tightly in Dean’s arms, Layla could forget she was sick. In the safety of Dean’s arms, she tried not to think about how her headaches were intensifying and how most days it took more strength than it should to get out of bed. She didn’t want to think about that; only wanting to put all her focus into her relationship with Dean.
Lying in bed, Layla squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to dull the pain in her head. But it was no use and she struggled to get up. She felt sweat begin to form on her forehead and her strength diminishing as she swung her legs over the bed. Her breath was coming in short pants, tears fell freely down her pale clammy cheeks as she slowly stood up, her hands clutching at her nightstand table for support. “Okay Layla,” she hissed, “you can do this.”
Standing in an upright position she put one foot in front of the other, taking her time as she steered herself in the direction of the bathroom. White spots began to block her vision and soon black began to form in her peripherals. She gripped the doorframe that led to her bathroom, made a step to go inside but didn’t make it before her world disappeared and she fell.
~ ~ ~
With two coffees in his hand, Dean opened the door to Layla’s house and made his way towards the bedroom. He knew Layla would probably still sleeping and he wanted to be there when her eyes fluttered open, wanted to kiss her sleep flushed cheeks. As he made his way towards the bedroom, a sense of dread clutched at his chest and made him pick up his pace. He pushed open the door and when he didn’t find her in bed, his eyes searched around the room frantically before falling on a crumpled figure on the floor near the master bath.
The coffees slid out of his hands, crashing to the floor and Dean was by Layla’s side in a flash. “Layla,” he cried, terrified. “Layla can you hear me?” His hands searched for a pulse and he was relieved to find one. Ok Dean, THINK! THINK!
With shaking hands he pulled out his cell phone, dialled a number and waited for the person on the other end to answer. “Sammy! It’s Layla!”
Dean paced the floor in the waiting room, his eyes cringed, sensitive against the bright lights and even brighter walls. It was too soon, was all he could think, it was too soon. He fingered absently at the small box in the pocket of his leather jacket. Please God, don’t take her away from me yet. I’m not ready for her to go. The thought was selfish but he didn’t care.
“What’s taking the doctor so damn long?” He asked in frustration. They had been waiting over an hour and in that time no one had updated them on Layla’s condition.
The voice that replied was frightened but the hatred that lay underneath was strong, “This is all your fault.”
Dean glanced in the direction the voice was coming from and grimaced. Layla’s mother stood only a few feet away from him, her face etched in such anguish he wished momentarily that he was any where else but here.
“You took away my baby’s life,” Layla’s mother continued. “I don’t care about your reasons. The Reverend healed you didn’t he?”
Dean bit back the retort on his tongue and instead said, “Arguing about this right now isn’t going to change anything. Please, let’s just concentrate on your daughter.” This seemed to silence Mrs Rourke and Dean resumed his pacing.
“Dean,” Sam said, gesturing his head in the direction of the proceeding doctor.
The doctor shook Dean’s hand before turning his attention to Mrs Rourke. “My name is Doctor Bishop,” he started. “Your daughter is in stable condition for now. Her tumour has nearly doubled in size and I’m afraid that it could be any time now.”
“What?” Dean demanded, his voice faltering.
“I’m so sorry,” Dr Bishop said. “If there’s anything you need or any questions just let me know.”
“I want to see her,” Dean blurted. “What room is she in?” Dr Bishop pointed in the direction and Dean was off, Sam and Mrs Rourke trailing behind him.
~ ~ ~
Layla looked fragile against the stark green sheets, the machines hooked up to her body beeping loudly in the room. Dean sat down in the vacant chair next to her bed and gripped her IV free hand with his own, his calloused hand massaging hers. “Layla,” he whispered, “please, baby, open your eyes.”
Layla’s eyelids fluttered at first and slowly they opened. “Dean,” she said her voice barely audible and raspy. “I’m sorry.”
Dean brought her hand to his lips, “Sorry for what?”
With what strength she could muster, she squeezed Dean’s hand with a small smile on her lips. “For dying,” she mumbled.
“Oh baby,” he whimpered, tears thickening his voice. “Please don’t be sorry for that.” He stood up and touched his forehead to Layla’s, his tears falling silently on her cheeks. Remembering that Layla’s mother stood patiently behind them, he kissed Layla’s forehead whispering, “I’ll be right back.”
As he made his way out of Layla’s room he felt a hand touch his arm lightly. “Thank you,” Mrs Rourke said.
~ ~ ~
Over the next couple days Layla’s condition improved much to the surprise of her doctors and was cleared to go home. The time she had left was unclear to everyone and it made him anxious. He didn’t know what he would do without the only woman who really managed to capture his heart so completely. But being able to have Layla home, in the bed they shared together, Dean wasn’t going to dwell on it. He wasn’t going to allow himself to wait, deflating himself emotionally and ruin what time they had left together. He needed to be strong because Layla needed him now more than ever.
As he spruced up the bedroom with fresh flowers and clean sheets, Dean vowed that he was going to do whatever he could to make Layla comfortable. Dean glanced at his watch and smiled; Sam had picked Layla up at the hospital a half hour ago and they should be here any minute.
As he finished up the final touches in the bedroom, Dean made his way towards the living room to stand in front of the picture window- waiting. He heard the impala from down the street and his heart thudded hard in his chest. She was home.
When Sam drove into the driveway, Dean was outside to meet them. “We’re home,” Sam called in greeting putting the impala in park and getting out of the car.
Dean grinned at his brother as he embraced him tightly before making his way towards Layla’s side of the car. He opened the door and held out a hand for her to hold on to. “Hello, baby,” he said, helping her out of the car. With her standing in front him now, that sweet smile on her face Dean leaned forward and pressed his lips gently to hers, tracing the contours of her lips with his greedy tongue.
Layla moaned and Sam coughed; Dean flipped his brother the bird and steered Layla into the house. “Goodbye, Sam!” he called out, wanting Layla alone knowing that she needed to rest.
Sam laughed, “Goodbye, lovebirds.”
~ ~ ~
Layla pouted as Dean pulled away, breaking the kiss; preventing it from going any further. She wanted him so desperately her insides ached. “Dean,” she whined, sounding like a child, “I’m fine.”
Dean rolled his eyes as he tucked Layla in and fluffed the pillows that surrounded her. “No,” he said in a tone that sounded final.
“I don’t understand why you’re acting like this,” she was fuming now; “I’m fine! I’m not tired and I don’t hurt.” She pushed herself out from under the covers to rest on her knees in front of Dean. “I want you, Dean.” She was pleading now, “I want you before I can’t have you anymore.”
His eyes were locked on her green ones and knew he couldn’t deny her this, not when the emotion in her eyes mirrored is own. I will be gentle, he thought and let the thought echo in his head as he knelt on the bed, facing Layla.
His big hands ran over her bare arms slowly, exploring her as if she were a new lover. He traced her collarbone with his index finger, trailing soft wet kisses in their absence. He loved the taste of her, loved the way her skin felt hot against is lips. He planted his hands on either side of her and slowly pressed himself against her and lowered them onto the bed. Tonight was going to be about her, about them and about everything they wished they could be. Capturing her lips in a hot kiss, he made love to Layla for the last time.
Member No.: 15,809
Joined: 2-February 07
After a week of pampering and being waited on, Layla found herself back in the hospital. The pain and headaches had taken up permanent residence in her body and she could no longer fight through it. Hissing through her teeth she watched as the nurse added morphine to her IV drip and counted down the minutes until she would feel its soothing effects. She slept all the time now, too drugged up to stay awake or notice when she had visitors. But she always sensed him, always knew when he was at her side. She had her good days but they were coming few and far between now and she knew it was almost time. The thought of dying didn’t scare her anymore, but she didn’t welcome it. She didn’t welcome anything that would take her away from Dean.
She heard a faint sound of a chair being dragged against the floor and the sudden dip at the side of the bed as Dean rested his head on her hand. She managed a weak faltering smile at the feel of his warm skin against the ice cold hand. As the morphine made her way into her body and began to work its magic Layla felt her body begin to relax and the pain in her head suddenly became bearable. She heard Sam’s voice in the background, letting Dean know that he was just running out to get some coffee; asking if he would like anything.
“Hot chocolate,” she whispered, earning surprised looks from both Winchesters’.
Dean chuckled, “Well you heard the lady.”
When Sam left the room, Dean stared adoringly down at Layla. Hot chocolate, he remembered was her favourite. He stroked her hair and tried not to notice how it lacked its’ usual lustre. He ignored the pale white skin and dark circles under Layla’s eyes, seeing only the Layla he would remember forever. Bright, vibrant and so tenderly sweet it could melt anyone’s heart. That would be the picture that would be forever implanted in his memory. Again, he absently fingered at the small box in his pocket and his heart shattered. He’d never get the chance to ask her; never get to see those delicate fingers wearing his mother’s ring. He had been carrying the ring around for weeks now, never finding the right moment to pop the question.
There was a knock on the door and Dean turned around to see who it was. His mouth dropped in shock as he stared at the man standing in the doorway. He got up slowly from his chair and made his way towards the man and embraced him tightly. So tightly he even managed to wind himself.
“Dad,” he breathed disbelief in his voice.
“Dean,” John Winchester said, returning his son’s embrace and Dean’s body shuddered. Nothing could have kept him from being here with Dean when he needed all the support he could get. He was grateful that Sam had called him because there was nowhere else he would rather be then here.
Dean buried his face in his father’s shoulders savouring the fact that he was here. “How’d you know?” He asked breaking the embrace.
“Your brother called me yesterday to let me know what was going on,” John answered. “I packed up right away and came here.”
“I’m glad you came,” Dean replied, so thankful to have this family surrounding him now. “Sam just went out to get coffees; he should be back any minute.” He made his way back to Layla’s side, felt his dad following him.
Layla pretended to be asleep, knowing that Dean needed to be alone with his father. She heard the footsteps of the second man as he joined his son at her side. Her heart swelled with happiness knowing that Dean wouldn’t be alone. He had Sam, so he wasn’t really alone but she understood how important it was for Dean to have his father here with him. His father had been the only true constant that he had in his life and he looked up to him. If she wasn’t pretending to be asleep she would have smiled.
Pulling up a chair, John sat down next to Dean. “Tell me about her,” he said to Dean and his son complied; filling John in on everything that had transpired in the last five months.
John listened as his son spoke of Layla with such love and tenderness that he felt a surge of pride for his son. The way he has stood by this young woman’s side knowing her condition was extraordinary and brave. His son had loved without selfishness and he had been true to her in a way that Dean never was. However brief their time together; John would forever be grateful for Layla coming into his son’s life. He felt as if he knew this woman who slept before him and an overwhelming sense of love for them both washed over him.
“She sounds like a wonderful woman,” John commented when his son had finished his story, sensing that he’d left out some parts knowing that John would be able to fill them in for himself. He knew Dean’s reasons for not telling her the truth about what he did for a living and he didn’t question his reasons behind it. His wife, Mary, had kept a very similar secret from him; trying not only to keep him safe but their children as well.
“She is,” Dean said lovingly, cupping Layla’s hand against his face. “She’s the most amazing, strong, brave woman that I have ever met.” He paused. “I was going to ask her to marry me, Dad. But things took a turn for the worse so quickly that I never got the chance to ask.” His voice was forlorn and sad.
John was about to say something when the sound of Sam’s voice broke his train of thought. John got up from his chair and turned around to get a look at his youngest son. He smiled at the sight of him; whatever differences they shared when it came down to it they were family and he loved Sam. Always would.
“Sammy,” he grinned, grabbed his son in a tight bear hug.
“Dad, I’m glad you made it.” Sam said sheepishly, guilt for leaving the way he did still underneath his strong exterior.
“Me too, son,” John murmured, “me too.”
~ ~ ~
Layla couldn’t sleep anymore, her pain forgotten momentarily as she remembered what Dean had said. He had been going to ask her to marry him; the very idea struck her dumb. Dean, marry her, the girl that was dying? The girl that could barely manage a day without some kind of painkiller running through her system? The absurdity of it nearly made her cry at the unfairness of it all. She wanted to marry Dean so bad that it broke her heart, shattered it into a thousand tiny pieces that were irreparable.
She was thankful that today was one of her good days because a plan had begun to form in her mind. If he couldn’t manage the nerve to ask her now, well, she was going to ask him. She wasn’t going to let death keep her from becoming Mrs Dean Winchester. Reaching for the phone beside her hospital bed, she dialled a number.
“Sam,” she said not bothering to wait for his usual greeting. “I need to see you. I have an idea.”
~ ~ ~
The rest of the afternoon and late into the evening Sam and Layla planned. Getting rid of Dean hadn’t been easy and they were both thankful that John pitched into help keep Dean occupied. Everything was coming along perfectly and Layla couldn’t have been more pleased with what they had accomplished.
“Sam,” she asked; a seriousness in her voice that caused him to stop what he was doing.
“What is it?” He replied, smiling at the sheer beauty that was Layla.
“When I’m gone, well you please watch over Dean for me. Make sure that he doesn’t get into any trouble and doesn’t do anything stupid. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to him when I’m gone.”
Sam’s heart clenched tightly in his chest, “Of course I will. He’s my brother after all; it’s what I do best.”
Layla nodded, “Thank you.”
“I think Dean’s going to be surprised,” Sam changed the subject, “He’ll probably blubber like a baby.”
Layla smiled, “Good that’s what I was....” she trailed off as lightning hot pain made its way from her head all the way down to her toes. What the hell. She fell back against her bed her whole body shaking uncontrollably; blood spitting from her mouth from chomping down on her tongue.
Sam shouted for help and nurses and doctors quickly swarmed around him backing him out of the room completely. He watched in horror at the scene before him, watched as Layla’s body continued to convulse underneath the restraining hands of the nurses. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, his hands quickly dialling Dean’s number.
“Dean,” he cried frantically, “You need to get here now!” and hung up the phone.
~ ~ ~
“It’s not good,” Dr Bishop said his eyes full of sympathy. “The seizure caused severe damage to Layla’s body and she’s no longer breathing on her own. Her body was already far too weak to sustain such traumatic stress. There are options we need to discuss.”
Mrs Rourke fiddled nervously with her purse and despite her hatred for Dean she was comforted knowing that he was at her side. “What kind of options?”
“Well,” Dr Bishop continued, “right now we have your daughter on life support, machines are breathing for her. We can keep her hooked up to these machines until the tumour eventually becomes too much for her body to handle and her organs begin to shut down one by one.”
“What’s the other option?” Dean asked.
“We can take her off life support and eventually she will stop breathing and pass away.” Bishop said in a no nonsense voice.
“Will it be quick?” Mrs Rourke asked unconsciously reaching for Dean’s hand.
Mrs Rourke turned to look at Dean as if looking for confirmation. “What do you think Dean?”
Dean swallowed hard, feeling grateful that Mrs Rourke was offering him a say. After everything that she had been through with him, Dean hadn’t expected it. “I think we should take her off life support.”
~ ~ ~
It was the hardest thing he had ever had to do and he was thankful to have both his brother and his father at his side. As he watched the nurse turn off the machine that breathed for Layla, he gripped her hand tightly in his and he didn’t let go. He watched the rise and falls of her chest, counted the beats of her pulse and waited. “I love you, Layla.” He watched as her breathing slowed and then stopped all together.
He didn’t break down just then because a sense of relief flooded though him. Layla wasn’t suffering anymore; she didn’t have to pretend not to hurt when he knew that she did. He was thankful that it was over now.
He heard Sam and his father’s silent retreat allowing himself and Layla’s mother privacy alone with Layla. They worked as a team as they bathed and cleansed her body; when they finished and Dean collapsed into the chair only then did he allow himself to cry. He missed her so much already.
~ ~ ~
At the funeral, after everyone had left Dean stood alone by Layla’s casket. His hands were stuffed deep into the pockets of his suit. His eyes were stuck on a picture of a happy, smiling Layla and he couldn’t look away. He fished in his pocket and took out the small box and placed it beside her picture. Though he never got a chance to ask her he knew what her answer would have been and already considered Layla his wife. The ring didn’t mean anything, without her here and he wanted her to have it. He couldn’t picture giving it to anyone else and he didn’t want to.
“Marry me,” he whispered and slowly backed away from the casket and headed towards his waiting family. Eventually he would be okay again, but he wasn’t counting on it being any time soon.
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