Haunted: Danny Quinn Oneshot
Danny Quinn was just an ordinary young child. He liked getting into trouble, playing pranks, and torturing his little brother at a very young age. They did everything together though, it was an odd relationship. Danny being twelve years older than him after all, he shouldn't have even liked him at that point. But he did, of course he did. Patrick was one of his best friends.
When they weren't fighting and Danny wasn't pranking the young boy, they were bonding over an episode of Doctor Who or joking around with each other. On stormy nights, Patrick would crawl into his older brother's bed and just-lie there. Danny would crack out a torch and read Sherlock Holmes to him. Sherlock was the young boy's hero, he wanted to be just like him…
Outside they'd play rugby and sword fight using sticks, they'd wrestle in the dirt and piggy back rides were common. No matter how many fights they had, they knew by the end of the night, everything would be alright.
Danny and Patrick were the best of brothers, no matter how much they yelled, no matter how red in the face and angry they'd get at one another, no matter how defiant Patrick was as he aged, no matter how often Patrick dared Danny to do disgusting things and watched as he did them, Danny could push Patrick off the swing or leave him up on the air on a teeter-totter, and they'd laugh it off during the night over one of the "epic" pillow fights they so often did.
Eventually though, it all had to end. Nothing lasts forever, does it? Danny moved out, tried out university, and broadened his horizons, leaving one warning to his brother. There was an abandoned old house, they all used to tell ghost stories about the place, and Patrick was practically obsessed with making plans to spend an entire night there and explore it. His mum was against the idea completely, his father just didn't want to deal with lawyers, and Danny didn't want the boy hurt.
"Hey, don't go to the house, huh?" The man looked down at his fourteen year old brother.
"But come on, Dan! I'd kill to go there!"
"You'll get killed if you go there, rather."
"Oh, what's the worst that can happen?"
"Even if there are no ghosts, do you know the legal trouble you'll get into?" Danny smiled, leaning down to his height. "Between you and me, I don't wanna have to arrest you one day."
"You're gonna be a cop?"
"Thinkin' about it."
"Goody two shoes!" Patrick grinned.
"Nah, I'm still fun and can still prank, don't worry." He pat his back. "I'll see you when I come home, yeah Pat?"
"I'll be here waiting."
"And you are not to go to the house, got it?"
"Got it," He nodded. "bye Danny."
He gave him a quick hug, a kiss on the head which was promptly wiped away, and waved to his mum and dad. He was really going off, something he didn't expect to do. He never imagined he'd go to college, he spent his upper school years pranking teachers and ending up in detention. Him and his friends got in all sorts of trouble, it was fun that way. No one knew what was going to happen next, his own personal favorite was bubble-wrapping the principle's office.
It was months before Danny got the call from his parents. It was nearly surreal, as if it wasn't actually happening…as if nothing was true anymore. His whole life flashed in front of his eyes and he dropped the phone.
"Daniel," He heard his mum scream from the other side. "Daniel, are you still there?"
He closed his eyes tightly, he didn't want to think about it all. "I'm here…" He mumbled, picking up the phone again and playing with the cord.
"I'm sorry." She sighed. "The cops are looking, still investigating. The other boy, Matt was found dead. Ryan Mason was the only one who got out…"
"And we've no idea where Patrick's gone?"
"No. They think he might-he might," A sob erupted from her throat. "might be dead too…"
Danny rubbed his temples. His little brother, his fourteen year old little brother couldn't be dead. He just couldn't.
"How did-how did Matt die?" He wondered. What was in that house? A murderer, a wild animal, what?
"The cops say it was an animal, but it was unidentified. They said it seemed like a creature that they had never dealt with…"
"Patrick-he can't be dead. He just can't," He repeated over and over again. It was impossible…just impossible. Just four months ago they were sword fighting out front, pinning each other on the ground and threatening to spit in each other's faces. That little boy…he couldn't have died. Taking a deep breath and looking at the floor, he asked one other question before deciding what to do. "How's dad?"
"He's been drinking an awful lot, thinking of quitting his job…"
"I'm coming home."
"Danny, no-you've got a future."
"Mum…I'm coming home." He said determined, hanging up the phone and beginning to pack his things.
So he came home. He thought it might help, but all it did was make the problem ten times worse. He swore he still saw him sometimes, late at night in the bedroom. Then there were nights where he'd sit there and talk out loud as if the boy was still there. And stormy nights he grabbed the Sherlock Holmes books and read them, cuddling up to the blanket, pretending that it could replace his brother's body.
"Patrick, listen…you're not an idiot. You wouldn't have been killed, so come out and surprise us. Surprise us all. Mum and dad really miss you, I miss you…I miss you a lot. They tell me I'm going to become a nutter if I keep talking to you, if I swear I see you at night…but is it really my fault? Your my brother…and you were the best brother. I thought I'd hate you, swore up and down that mum didn't have another child…because I liked being an only child. I really did…I got everything I ever wanted, I never had to fight with anyone, everything was perfect. Then you came along and…everything about you, I fell in love with. I fell in love with having a brother, someone to tease, someone to mess around with, someone to be there. Someone who depended on me…and you did it all. You were my biggest fan and my worst enemy and-and I could take you down in an instant while sword fighting. Now that I think about it…being an only child sucks when you had a brother like you…so just give me something, Pat. Give me a miracle, a blessing…anything?"
Tears streaked down the man's face and he shook his head, lying his head back on the pillow. For awhile now, he'd refused to sleep in his old bed, instead sleeping on Patrick's thinking just maybe, he'd wake up and his head would be resting on his chest. But the truth is, the boy hadn't slept with him since he was eleven and he hadn't been home in over a year. Cops gave up on him and Danny joined the force, bringing the missing boy to the center of attention.
He wasn't going down without a fight.
He was looking for his brother…he was looking for his best friend and whether anyone understood the feeling or not, it didn't matter to the man.
Danny was determined.