LITTLE SINGER ā”ā” Dean Winches...

By brzatto

145K 4.9K 454

ON HOLD. She was the one that got away. But a wheelchair just so happened to bring her back. š™™š™šš™–š™£ š™¬... More

INTRODUCTION
EPIGRAPH
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWELVE

3.8K 132 8
By brzatto



                    "Okay, fine. Kiss, marry, kill: Tom Cruise, Keanu Reeves, and Matt Damon." Rebecca popped another fry into her mouth. The teens were sitting in the cafeteria, playing a friendly game while waiting for the bell to ring. Danny, with her thick hair tied up in a bun, rolled her eyes at her friend. "Kiss Matt, marry Keanu, and kill Tom. He's a terrible actor," she replied, taking a bite out of her Granny Smith apple. Becca only rolled her eyes to mark it down on her notebook. "Your turn." Danny finished chewing up the apple in her mouth before looking toward her friend.

          "Kiss, marry, kill: Bill Cosby, Mr. Rogers, and Bob Ross." Three fries were launched at her as Rebecca let out a loud laugh. "Ew! You're so weird!" the girl practically shouted as Danny laughed. "You have to answer it!" the brunette claimed. Her dark eyes rolled skyward as she pondered on her decision. "Kiss Mr. Rogers, marry Bob Ross, and kill Bill Cosby. He's always given me the creeps anyway. Who the hell owns that many sweater?" Danny had to bite back her laugh as the cafeteria began to get noisy. They hadn't even heard the bell ring. Danny picked up her tray of half eaten food while Rebecca quickly shoved the rest of her fries in her mouth.

          "Now, if you would have said Rob Lowe or even Denzel Washington, I would have had a hard time to choose." Becca rolled her eyes at the mention of Rob Lowe, who was probably Danny's biggest crush. She had pictures from magazines all over her room. She adored the man like a total fangirl. "God, he is so beautiful." Danny knew that Becca hated listening to her obsess over actors, but Becca would never stop her unless it was going too far. She loved that about her friend. She withstood the boring mumblings and rants about Danny's crushes, when Becca never seemed to talk about her own. "If me and Rob ever met, do you think he'd like me?"

          Becca rose a single brow in confusion. "Like, met in real life?" Danny nodded to her friend as the made it to their lockers. They slipped open the tin doors and began to gather their books. "I mean, I'm pretty and I've got a cool personality, right?" Becca's lips pursed as she nodded. "Honestly, I think he'd fall in love with you. I mean, who wouldn't? You're an amazing person, Danny." Becca not once looked at the brunette until she finished unpacking her backpack. Her eyes then met Danny's sparkling ones.

          "I know I can be annoying, but you're the best friend I've ever had," Danny whispered with her million dollar smile. Becca only rolled her eyes. "Sap. I'm the only friend you've ever had."

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

Chapter Twelve:
" FALLEN IDOLS:
PART ONE "

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

She was stuffing her guns into her duffle bag, along with extra clothes. Bobby was downstairs. He trusted the boys, of course. But did he truly trust them with Danielle? After Sam was brought back into the hunting life, Danielle came home with a few bruises. Bobby knew to expect it, but seeing them did nothing but hurt his heart. He felt like a father again; constantly worrying over her every time she left the house in the span of three weeks. But she always came home, talking on the phone. He only learned three nights ago that it was Sam and Dean. When asked about it, she only shrugged and smiled before bidding him a goodnight.

But, now, she was going out there. She was working a case with the brothers, one Dean really wants her to be apart of. Bobby did feel some relief when discovering it had nothing to do with the forthcoming apocalypse, but he still worried. He still worried that something would go wrong. "My nerves are gone, dad," she would say each time Bobby asked if she could truly shoot the gun resting on her hip. "My aim is a lot better. Just trust me." And he would. He would trust that she had a knack for aim, but he couldn't stop feeling troubled with how often she was leaving now. His thoughts were interrupted by her heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. "I don't know when I'll be back," she began. Her eyes met her father's. "But I'll be back. Promise."

Anyone could hear the Impala approach from miles away. A honk of the horn told Danielle that it was indeed time to go. She pressed a chaste kiss to her father's cheek and he wished her luck, sending her out into the dangerous world with two idjits who can't seem to stay out of trouble. And that's how she ended up sitting in the back of the Impala, playing with her sleeves as Dean sang along to the music playing over the radio. He was into harder stuff than she listened to, but she didn't bother saying anything. That was one of the several things Sam warned her about the night before. "How long is this trip?" she asked, resting her chin against Sam's seat. He turned to face her, chuckling. "Not much longer."

          She blew air through her nose, letting her cheek hit the headrest of Sam's seat. "This is so boring. How do you two cope?" Normally, it wouldn't be so dark. She also had Reggie beside her, to keep her company. Now that he's her sworn enemy, she felt lonely. She picked at a loose thread on the seat. "Being quiet is a start," Dean joked, only to receive an eye roll in response. She exhaled again loudly, plopping back into the backseat. "Take a nap. You'll need it." She rolled her eyes for what felt like the millionth time. "Dean, I don't think a ghost is going to be too hard. Right, Sam?" Sam looked to his brother before peering back at Danny, who waited for his confirmation. "Depends on the ghost, really."

         "Well, can we get something to eat? I'm starving." Dean snorted at the girl. She eyed the back of his head with narrowed eyes. "What?" she voiced. He peered back at her through the rearview mirror. She could almost see the smirk he wore. "If I woulda known you were this annoying, we would have left your ass back at Bobby's." She gasped. Without a second thought, she slapped at his shoulder, erupting laughter from the oldest in the car. He attempted to dodge her hits, but there wasn't any place he could go. "Say you're sorry!" she told him, still whacking at his jacket. He shook his head, his laughter being joined in by Sam's. "Say it!" Her lips were formed in a wide smile.

         Before he could apologize, she felt this warm feeling run up the length of her spine. Instead of slapping him, she gripped his arm, surprising him. "Danny?" Sam turned fully in his seat to spot the sweat breaking across her forehead. "No, no, no..." She felt her vision start to blur and sting. She forced her fists into her eyes. "Hey, what's going on?" Her arms began to shake as she slowly drifted from consciousness. Her body slumped into the seat, Sam's eyes widening. "Dean! Stop the car!" he shouted to his brother. Dean ignored the itching to switch on his blinker and just ran the car onto the shoulder. The car slowed while Sam quickly unbuckled his seatbelt.

          "What the hell is going on?" he shouted as his younger brother jumped out of the car. The back door swung open and Sam quickly pulled Danielle up right. "You remember the night we reunited?" Sam asked the man eyeing him worriedly. "Yeah, why?" Sam pressed his palm to her burning forehead. "When she was recovering, she told me that someone's controlling her dreams. I tried to get Cas to help, but... I think he's in her head now." And Sam was right. Danielle sat in a chair, her eyes red and watery. Her wrists were bound to the arms of the chair, her ankles bound to the legs. She wore the same clothes she did the night Courtney attacked her. "Must be hard seeing this place, huh?" the now familiar voice spoke, easing into the bathroom that was stained in Danny's blood.

"Why am I here?" she asked angrily. She jerked against her restraints, glaring at the man before her. "Why won't you leave me alone?" He chuckled darkly. He lingered behind her for a moment before moving in toward her. His fingers lifted her hair, breathing in her scent deeply. "You're his backup plan, ya know. It won't be easy for his bodysuit to fight against you." She jerked her head back as he reached for her cheek. She felt a sickness wash over her as she stared into his dark eyes. "No," she spat. "No, you can't keep doing this. Let me out." She fought against the rope, struggled screams filling the room. The rope burned against her skin, but she didn't care. "Let me out!"

Her vision began to dissolve once more. The warmth that had encased her washed away. She gasped, only to find herself in the Impala once again. Her body jolted forward, nearly knocking Sam over. Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe, the cool air too much for her lungs. "You okay?" Dean asked her, capturing her burning cheeks between his hands. Tears had stained her cheeks, leaving them rimmed red. "I'm— I'm okay. I got out," she whispered breathlessly. She glanced toward Sam with a sigh, the male grinning down at her. "You got out."


────── {.⋅ ⋅.} ──────


          She pulled at her collar, her eyes diverting away from the tape playing on the small television. "Oh, my God, Cal! Cal!" The video suddenly cut to static, and the man with them, Carnegie, shook his head. "Sicko taped his own handiwork." Sam and Dean shared a look, a sarcastic smile finding its way onto Danny's face. "I don't follow," Sam spoke slowly, his eyebrows drawn in confusion. "It was Jim Grossman that killed Cal." Danny let her eyes fall closed as she lifted a finger toward the man. "I think you've got that wrong," she told him, allowing her eyes to focused on his face. "Well, he was the only one on the scene for miles." Sam scoffed. "They were best friends," he argued.

          Sam's words made a sick feeling jostle around in Danny's gut. Courtney and I were best friends, she thought with a frown. "Most violent crimes are committed by someone close to the victim," Carnegie explained. Danny took a small step back, reaching for Dean's fingers. He noticed the way her demeanor suddenly changed and quickly wrapped his pinky around hers. "And how exactly did Jim slam Cal into a windshield with all the force of an eighty-mile-per-hour crash?" Dean questioned, staring hard at the man in front of him. Carnegie blinked. "Drugs?" The trio all raised their eyebrows at the man in front of them. Despite the situation, the man chuckled. "Look, you know this ain't brain surgery, boys! Whatever it looks like, that's what it usually is. It's simple."

          "Simple. Right," Dean replied, a light anger floating in his tone. Dean glanced over at Sam before focusing his eyes on the brunette behind him. "Right. Um, if you don't mind, we'd like to speak to Jim Grossman anyway." Carnegie sighed before nodding his head. "I'll take you to him," he replied reluctantly. Danielle's finger slipped from Dean's hold as they began moving toward the holding cells. His brows furrowed. "You okay?" he whispered, slowing so she could match his step. Her hands raked down the wrinkles of her clothing in an attempt to smooth them out. Her dark hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, her side bangs framing her face.

          "Yeah. I was just thinking about Court again, and Steve. No big deal." Her words came out shaky. She had been having nightmares about the two ever since the situation with Tim and Reggie. She wrung out her fingers, sucking in a deep breath through her nose. "You're situation was different, Danny." He placed his hand over hers, gently pulling them apart. "Dean..." He knew what he did was probably overstepping. She may let Sam comfort her, but she had a reason not wanting Dean to do it. "The prophecy, I know," he sighed. He let his hands slip from hers and turned rather sharply to escape the awkward tension building around them. She felt her eyes watch as he moved away. With large steps, she joined the group to interrogate Jim.

He looked distraught. The man she presumed was Jim looked as if he hadn't slept in a long time. Sam and Dean stepped in first, Sam suddenly stopping. "You okay?" She exhaled deeply at question. Without an answer, she moved past him to sit across from Jim, Dean and Sam standing behind her. "Hi, Mr. Grossman," she said softly, smiling gently at the man. He nodded toward her, his eyes hardly meeting hers. "Where were you when the incident happened?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "Did you watch the video? According to these asshole, I killed him." His hand was shaking against the table, fingers curled into a fist. Danny slipped her hand over his, much to his and the boys' surprise.

"We watched the video. I'm asking you, though. Not these assholes." His shaking ceased as she withdrew her hand, crossing them together on the table. "I was in the house when it happened, I didn't even see it," he replied. Her lips pressed together into a tight line as Dean leaned forward, his hand on the table near her. "For argument's sake, say we believe you." Jim shook his head, raking a hand through his hair. "The cops didn't." Sam smiled a half smile. "Well, we're not your typical cops," Dean responded. Sam bent forward on the other side of Danielle. "Please, just tell us what you saw." Jim's eyes darkened as he thought back to the memory of his best friend's sudden death. Danielle knew that feeling all too well. "It's not what I saw, it's what I heard. Tires squealing, glass breaking." He sighed.

"It was the car that did it." Danny stared at the man before her with lifted brows. "The car?" she repeated, knowing he probably thought she didn't believe him. He nodded suddenly, reaching out for her hands. "I mean, I heard about the curse, but, I just thought it was a load of crap." Dean eyed their joined hands. "Curse, what do you—what do you mean, curse?" he asked as he tore his gaze away. Jim looked even more frightened than before. "The car. Little Bastard." Her eyebrows furrowed. "Li—Little Bastard? As in the Little Bastard?" — "You believe me, right?" Danny's eyes were locked with Jim's, her lips fallen into an 'o' shape. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, uh, what's Little Bastard?" Sam questioned. Dean felt a pang of jealousy at the way Danny stared at the man.

"The car James Dean was killed in," she breathed out, shocking both Jim and Dean. "Yeah," Jim spoke breathlessly. He moved his hands from over hers to grip her wrists. "Yeah, that's the one. Cal had been looking for it for years. I mean, hell, we both had. But he found it first. You believe me, right? Right?" The desperation in his voice and the tight hold on her wrists made Danny flinch. "I believe you; we all do," she told him, prying his fingers from digging into her skin. "Oh, God. Thank you," he whispered. Danny stood, looking toward Dean, then to Sam. "Are we checking this out?" she whispered, watching the smirk rise onto Dean's face. "Oh, we are definitely checking this out."

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