"Do you really feel that way?" Danielle turned to Sam. She could spot the guilt eating away at him. She knew he was sorry. "I do... sometimes. And then there are moments where I don't," she admitted. Dean had stayed outside. He wanted to give the two time to speak. "I'm sorry..." She smiled softly despite the rapid beating of her heart. "I know you are. You didn't know. If roles were reversed..." Her words drifted off. Sam wanted to reach for her. He could remember the day they reunited. She was so broken and tattered physically, but she was so strong. Seeing her weak like this broke his heart. She noticed his hesitance and took matters into her own hands.
Her arms wound around his torso, her face buried into his chest. He was so warm. He engulfed her into his arms, tight and safe within his grasp. She buried her face within his chest and breathed in his musky smell. Her fingers wrapped tight around the back of his shirt. He held onto her like she was dying. He was scared that if he let go, she would fall apart. He was terrified that every ounce of her strength would wash away and she would become a shell, withering away. "I'm so sorry, Danny," he breathed out, his breath fanning over her head. It ruffled the loose strands. "I know." Her voice came out muffled.
The door slowly creaked open and Dean stared at the sight in front of him. Sam's hazel eyed were glassy with unshed tears, his arms so tight around Danielle that Dean questioned whether or not she could breathe. And the pained expression on her sharp features made his chest clench. His heart pulled for her. She nuzzled herself deeper into Sam's chest as Dean closed the door as silently as he could. "Things will get better," Dean heard Danielle speak. He turned to look at her, noticing her eyes locked on him. "I just know it."
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Chapter Eighteen:
" THE CURIOUS CASE
OF DEAN WINCHESTER:
PART ONE "
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THE TRIO walked along the corridors of a stingy motel, the moonlight illuminating their path. Danny tied back her hair, slipping on a pair of jogging pants and wore one of Dean's flannel shirts over her white t shirt. "Well, at least he's consistent. Same room every Tuesday, hourly rates," Sam stated as they neared their destination. Danielle gagged at the thought. How could a man cheat on his wife after so many years? Mrs. Whitlow was kind enough. "Hope I got that kind of kick when I'm his age," Dean joked, throwing a wink in Danny's direction. She shoved his shoulder with a sigh. "Pig." Sam chuckled at the two, shaking his head. "Don't worry. It's not like either of us will live that long." Dean agreed with Sam. Danny felt her smile falter at the thought of losing either of these idiots.
"So...what do you think's in there?" There was a long pause of silence between the three. Danny's frown deepened. "A smelly, goopy corpse," she replied, her face contorting into disgust. "With flies swarming around him. Like on those scary, old movies." Dean and Sam stared at the girl in disbelief. With a blush tinting her cheeks, she pushed past them. Sam pulled out his pick locking kit and began working on the locks. "That was graphic," Dean began, still staring at the woman on the other side of Sam. She rolled her brandy eyes with a huff. "You guys asked. I delivered my answer."
"Did you have to go so far into details?"
"Stop picking on me!"
"I'm not! I just—"
Dean's statement was cut off by the sound of a male voice shouting from the inside. Once Sam finished, he slammed the door open. Inside, a man was beneath a half dressed woman. Danny gasped in shock, quick to cover her eyes out of embarrassment. "Oh," Sam blurted out. "My God!" Danielle shrieked. Dean laughed. Suddenly, another head popped out from beneath the comforter covering the indecent act. "Holy Hell," Dean chuckled. "It's gooey," Sam added in amusement. Danny's cheeks were a scarlet red by now. Both of the women fled the bed in surprise, squealing at the intruders still standing within the doorway. "Sorry. Uh, got the wrong room," Dean explained. The man laid in bed shouted at the three.
"Sorry, sorry!" Danny jerked Dean back by the sleeve of his shirt. Sam was about to follow, but stopped in his tracks. A tattoo that resembled the one in a photo back at the Whitlow's estate pulled him back in. It was a USMC tattoo, one that looked exactly the same to Cliff Whitlow's. "Sam, what are you doing?" Danielle whispered. She wanted nothing more than to get out of there. She was dying from embarrassment. "Nice tattoo." Danielle felt her stomach drop as the tallest of the three reentered the room. "Happen to know anybody named Cliff Whitlow?" The man quickly shook his head as Sam's eyes swept the room. The girls were putting on their robes. "Well, that's weird..." Sam pulled a thick wallet from a pair of pants and riffled through it.
He held the identification card up for everyone to see. "Because you're carrying his wallet." Danielle looked to Dean in confusion. They had never seen something like this before. Dean moved toward the bed and jerked up the blankets. He nodded his head with a grimace and let the thin material fall back over him. "Your wife told us about your, uh, birthmark there. That's nice. Well, you look great. Cliff. Did you get some work done?" Cliff shook his head in reply, and sighed. "Could you give us some privacy?" The trio all gathered up by the door, turning to allow the other three to become decent. "This is weird, right?" Danny whispered. "I mean, he looked like he could be my grandpa. And now... he's kind of hot."
Both Sam and Dean made sounds of disgust and annoyance at her words. "This is one of the strangest things we've encountered so far," Sam sighed. When everyone was dressed, Cliff cleared his throat. Dean turned first, flashing a lopsided grin and winking at the two women robed. Danny's curled her fingers into a fist and punched him in the side, her eyes narrowed in a glare. "Hey!" he whispered toward the brunette, who only stuck her nose up. Cliff handed them their money and the girls left the room, both staring at Danielle as they left. Sam closed the door after them. "Please don't tell my wife," Cliff begged. Danny's eyes widened. "Excuse me?" she replied. "I'm begging you. As far as she knows, I'm dead. For the love of God, let's keep it that way."
"How can you possibly be Cliff Whitlow?" Dean asked. "More importantly, how could you cheat on your wife like that!?" Cliff stared at the angry brunette. "I can't tell you. Either of those." Dean scoffed. He shifted onto his other foot, his hands fitted against his hips. "Well, either you tell us or we tell the missus," he threatened. Cliff was quick to move. "Okay! Okay! It was a game." Sam cocked a brow. "Like...XBox?" he asked. Cliff shook his head, face contorted into confusion. Way to go, Sam. Confuse the grandpa, Danielle thought, rolling her eyes. "What's XBox? No. Poker. High stakes. Instead of cash, you play for years," he explained. Danny scoffed. "If you were going to lie, you should have just said so." Cliff quickly shook his head. "I'm not lying! I swear!"
"Then explain. You're not making any sense whatsoever." Cliff huffed. Danielle knew her attitude was annoying him. "Look, I know it sounds crazy. Guy comes up to me at a bar, invites me to play. Gives me twenty-five of these weirdo poker chips, right?" Dean nodded for him to continue. "Chants some mumbo humbo over them, says now they're twenty-five years. I'm laughing, but then I come out up. And look at me." He gestured toward his new and improved body. Danielle looked disgusted. Sam looked even more confused. But Dean... Dean looked impressed. "What was he chanting?" Sam asked, only to receive a chuckle. The trio's seriousness sent nervous chills down his spine. "Ho–How should I know? All I know is, my bad hip's good, I threw away my glasses."
He stood confidently with a chuckle. "One of those ladies was here for free! Man's some kind of miracle worker." He continued to laugh, though the situation was in no way humorous. "What does this miracle worker look like?" Dean questioned. Cliff's shoulders lifted into a shrug. "Just a guy. Maybe thirty-five, brown hair. Irish accent. His name was Patrick." Danielle snorted. Patrick, she thought, amused. Poor guy. "All right, all right. Where's this game at?" Dean asked, eyeing Danny's side profile. She was smiling. Why on earth was she smiling? "He said he likes to keep moving. Never stays in one bar long. And he finds you," Cliff responded. Dean's fingers wrapped around the crook of Danny's elbow. "Thanks, Cliff," he began. Sam turned and opened the door. "And, uh, stay classy."
Danny walked out after Sam. She puffed out her cheeks, wrapping her arms around her torso. "That was... interesting," she commented. Sam smiled as his head dropped. The amusement was clear in his voice as he replied, "That was the weirdest thing we've ever walked in on." She couldn't fight the laughter that seemed to swell in her throat. It escaped into the night air, like a string of wind chimes in the wind. Dean admired the way her skin seemed to glow beneath the moonlight. He watched as her eyes lit up. "Next time we're directed toward a motel, I'm hanging back." Dean chuckled. "Sure, sweetheart." Her cheeks warmed up as they approached the Impala. Ugh, she thought to herself. He's too damn cute.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
"Apparently its my turn to grab dinner tonight," Dean hummed as he approached the brunette. She stood at the bar, her exposed legs crossed at her ankles. "It is. I got it last time," she replied with a small smile. He settled against the bar beside her, his elbow against the top. He took his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes took in her appearance. Ever since their kiss, he couldn't seem to get enough of her. Maybe it was the prophecy working its magic. He knew that it would be tough fighting against something supposedly written in the stars. Or maybe it was because she stood in front of him, her dark waves cascading over her shoulders, the neck of her shirt low enough for him to get a clear sight of her chest.
"I bet the bathrooms here are cleaner than the motels," he hummed. Her lips fell apart in surprise at his innuendo. "You're so gross," she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. He only eased forward, wearing a small smirk on his pink lips. His hand found her elbow, his fingers trailing across the skin of her arm. She shuddered at the action. "You are one horny man." He chuckled at her words. She wasn't wrong. Something about her just pulled it out of him. "You can't blame me. Not when you're standing here looking like that." Before he could make his move, the bartender approached the two. "Can I get you something?" he asked. Danny smiled at the man, taking a seat on one of the bar stools. "Could I get a beer, please?" — "Make that two."
Dean cleared his throat, taking his own seat right next to the brunette. "You wouldn't happen to know of a poker game going on in back, would you?" he asked. The bartender gave Danny her drink first, his eyes stuck on Dean. "It's a bar, not a casino." Danny snorted as the cap popped off and the bottle was slid into Dean's waiting hand. "My friend Ben told me you'd know." Dean began to rummage through his pocket until he pulled out a crumpled up bill. "Don't know any Ben," the bartender replied blankly, his brows furrowed. Danielle buried her hands in her hands out of second hand embarrassment. "Sure you do." Dean chuckled as he attempted to smooth out the bill. "You know, balding, smart-ass, real ladies' man?"
Having enough of Dean, the bartender leaned forward dangerously close. "Listen, pal, I told you, I don't know any Ben. I don't know nothing about a game." Danny quickly stepped in, placing her palm against the bartender's chest. "I'm sorry about him. He just got out of rehab. He's not all there, you know?" Dean recoiled at Danny's story, his brows furrowed in a frown. "Hey!" he snapped. She turned to face the Winchester, her eyes intensely telling him to just shut up. He frowned as she retracted her hand and smiled at the man behind the bar. "Well, Ben knows him," Dean stated, finally sliding the crinkled bill onto the counter. The bartender stared at the money before letting out a sigh. "Fine. Follow me."
Dean nudged Danny in victory as the bartender took the bill. "You're lucky. If you would have waited any longer, he would have knocked you on your ass," she scolded the male. He only threw his arm over her shoulder with a triumphant smile. "I could take him." She rolled her eyes, slipping from Dean's grasp to follow the bartender behind the bar. "I could!" He watched as she walked in front of him. Damn, he thought to himself. She's so damn cute.