Is it too early for an update? We were on such a roll with the story that we've already finished another chapter of it, even though it's only been a day we just had to post!
Thank you for reading the last chapter, I hope you liked it.
Hope you enjoy this one!
Danielle Winchester
Chapter Two: Back On The Job
California — Highway — Impala — 10:12 AM.
Honestly, the whole thing had been nothing but awkward from the jump.
The three of them sat in the Impala, and none of them really wanted to be the first to speak.
Sam and Dean were saying nothing more to each other than what was absolutely necessary. They talked about Jericho, about the job they were taking, about dad, but not once had Dean asked his brother about college or about his girlfriend, he hadn't mentioned his life since he had left them, and, in truth, that night was a conversation he didn't want to go anywhere near. Not once had Sam asked about either of them, about hunting, about what they had been doing over the past four years while he had been away. And not once had Danielle made any attempt to change that. The truth of it was, she didn't want to be involved in anything that was going on around her. If she could have faded away into the leather seat behind her she would have done it, gladly.
Danielle just couldn't bring herself to understand why, after so much time had passed by, after so many years, after every single call that Sam had ignored, not missed, calls that he had seen and blatantly chosen not to answer, why should she be the one to make yet another attempt at keeping their family together? Why did it always have to be her job to do that? This time, she wasn't going to try. Because why should she, once again, be the one to fix the mess that his choices had left them? She had spent so long defending him in the weeks after he had walked away, and where had it gotten her? She had made excuse after excuse for him to Dean and their dad, she had tried to tell them that he needed space, that he was doing what was best for him, that he would call when he was ready, but he had proved her wrong. She was done with it. Completely. And so, she sat back in her seat, headphones in as if to pretend that none of it was even happening. For a moment, she was content with that idea.
Dean wished that he had that option, because he was starting to think that she had been right all along. Maybe going to get their brother had been a bad idea on his part. Dean missed his brother, and he wasn't going to deny that, but there was something different now that he was back. He wasn't sure what he had expected to happen, whether he thought that the three of them would just fall right back into the way they had once been, but he had never felt more uncomfortable than he did in that moment. The silence was uncomfortable, awkward, and everything he never could have imagined it would be between the three of them. He pressed his boot down harder on the gas, and he willed his car to get them to Jericho faster, just so that they could be out of there.
"What's up with Danielle, anyway?" Sam suddenly asked him, and he was the first of them to break the silence in miles.
The question took the eldest Winchester by surprise, and he looked to his brother with a frown, confused. "What does that mean?" he asked, maybe a little too defensive. "There's nothing up with Danielle. Why would there be?"
Sam shook his head, and, admittedly, he was a little taken aback by his tone. "I don't know." he muttered, nonchalant. "She just seems," He paused, as though to search for the right word. "Different."
"Well, it doesn't help that you keep staring at her like you do." he commented simply. "I mean, you're looking at her like you're looking at a ghost or something. It's creepy."
Sam purposely looked away from him at that remark. He hadn't even noticed. Had he been staring at her? Danielle was different, she looked nothing like the girl he had known four years ago. She was older, but it was more than that. What had once been long and wavy hair was now straightened and a shade lighter. Her make up that had once been so typical of a teenage girl her age was much more subtle. Even the way she dressed had changed. Now, she dressed like Dean, like their dad. She wore black jeans and a white vest, matched with a blue plaid shirt and a pair of scuffed boots. That had never been her style before. In fact, he couldn't once remember her wearing a plaid shirt as a teenager. Was this supposed to be her new hunter look? Because he sure as hell didn't recognize it. Her pale skin was now tanned, and her once perfectly manicured nails were painted with chipped black polish.
But it was more than just the way she looked. It was everything else. It was her attitude, her mannerisms, her expressions.
"She's different." Sam concluded, and there was a little more confidence behind his words this time. "Why is she so pissed that I'm here? I mean, it was you two who dragged me back into this. What's wrong with her?"
Dean scoffed, and he shook his head. Wasn't Sam supposed to be the smart one in the car? He didn't understand how sometimes he could be so blind, so naive. He wasn't convinced for a second that Sam thought the idea of going to get him had come from anybody but him, because Danielle had made it more than clear from the moment they set foot in his apartment that she couldn't have cared less. She wasn't scared to show him her anger, to show him that she was still hurt, and he knew that, deep down, Sam had to know that.
"It has been four years, Sam." he stated simply, and his voice remained calm, emotionless. "She's grown up a lot since you left. I mean, she's not a teenager anymore. She's twenty-four. Are you telling me that you haven't changed at all since you've been away? That doesn't mean that there's anything wrong with her."
Sam opened and closed his mouth, and it was clear that he was struggling for a response.
Dean offered him a shrug. "Look, things have changed, Sam." he muttered. "Whatever way you want to look at it. But she hasn't." He glanced back at her through the rear view mirror. "She's still the same girl she's always been."
The two of them fell back into a silence, and Sam thought on his brother's words for a moment. He looked over his shoulder to Danielle, and her attention was anywhere but on her brothers. She seemed lost in her own world of thoughts. Her green eyes were fixed on the blur of trees beside the highway as they shot past them, and one of her knees was pulled up to her chest. Her head nodded slightly to the music that played through her headphones, and it crossed his mind that he didn't even know what kind of music she listened to anymore. Was it still the same taste as Dean's, or had it changed over the years? It occurred to him, he didn't know his brother and sister anymore, not the way he had done before he had left. Somewhere, that hurt, more than he wanted to let on.
"You still call her Dani." he noted, and he looked back to Dean. "She used to hate that."
Sam didn't miss the fond smile that tugged at the corner of Dean's mouth at the comment.
"Yeah, well, there's only so long you can fight these things." he said, amused. "She learned to live with it. There came a point she just gave up on telling me not to. She doesn't take it from anyone else, though. Not a chance."
There was a gas station up ahead, and Dean pulled the Impala to the left. He cruised the car to a stop beside the pumps, and he turned off the engine. He turned in his seat and reached behind him, and he yanked the headphones from his sister's ears.
"I suppose you want something nutritious for breakfast?" he pressed, and there was a smirk on his face that challenged her glare.
But she cracked a smile. "Anything with chocolate." she confirmed. "I don't really care what."
"Same old." He rolled his eyes. "Make yourself useful, sis. Fill the car up, would ya?"
Danielle nodded, and she made a move to get out of the car with him. She stretched her aching muscles, because she had honestly forgotten just how cramped the back seat of the Impala was, it had been a long time since she had been in there. She watched as Dean stalked towards the store, and she reached for the gas pump. She was aware that Sam was watching her from the other side of the car, as though he was toying with the idea of saying something, but she just couldn't bring herself to face him. She didn't know what to say, how to react, because, truthfully, she wasn't sure how she felt about him at that point. Was she even in a place to still be angry with him? Four years had passed, maybe it was time she let it all go? But, he had hurt her, more than he seemed to realize, so why shouldn't he be aware of that? Why shouldn't she make him understand that?
Sam seemed to note that she wasn't in the mood to talk to him, and he appeared to let go of whatever comment or question he had been considering. He sat back down in the passenger seat of the car, but the door remained open, and he didn't quite get inside. His feet remained firmly on the gravel beneath the car, his elbow rested on his knee, and his forehead was placed against his palm.
The thing that upset Danielle more than anything else was the fact that he didn't seem aware of how much he had hurt them by cutting them out of his life the way he had. It had killed her every time she had called and he hadn't answered, and it hurt to think that he truly hadn't wanted to speak to either of them. After everything they had been through together, it seemed harsh. The three of them had only had each other for eighteen years of their lives, and, suddenly, it had been as though that had meant absolutely nothing to him. She understood his decision to leave, she could even understand why he had been so angry that night, hell, she would go far enough to say that she understood why he needed the space from them all, but four years? It was a long time. And he didn't even seem aware. It was as though he had walked right back into their lives and assumed that she was the one with the problem. Something about it all just made her not want to try, because, deep down, she knew that he was just going to leave again. And maybe it was that she didn't want to be the one who got rejected, again. It had been bad enough the first time. Why should she face it again?
"Hey, Danielle?"
The voice came from behind her, and it was evident that Sam had reconsidered his decision not to try. She groaned inwardly. He sounded apprehensive, as though he was unsure that he would even get an answer.
Danielle sighed, defeated, because, no matter how she felt, she wouldn't stoop low enough to blatantly ignore him. Maybe keeping up the pissed off act wasn't worth it anymore. She glanced back, but she didn't move from where she stood beside the gas pump.
"Yeah, Sam?" she pressed, but there was no emotion in her words. She remained blank.
Sam cleared his throat, and he shifted his weight, as though uncomfortable. "Look," He sighed. "I think we need to talk."
Danielle looked away from him, because she had known it was coming; the excuses, the lame apology, everything that she didn't want to hear. She already knew what he was going to say to her. He was going to tell her that he was sorry, that he had never wanted to cut them out of his life, that it was about their dad and not about them, it was about him wanting to be away from hunting. But did that change anything? Did that change what he had done? Not to her.
But there was only so long that she was going to be able to avoid hearing it, and so she pulled the pump from the car and almost slammed it back against the holder. The force of her action took even her by surprise.
"Sam, I—" But she stopped.
A part of her was nothing but relived at the sound of her phone ringing from the back pocket of her jeans, because it came as a welcome distraction between them and the heavy silence. But, the same as always, she tensed at the sound. There was always the hope that it was going to be their dad. She wanted it to be him, more than anything, because, honestly, she was afraid of what had happened to him. She pulled it out and looked to the caller ID; Bobby.
"Hold that thought," she muttered. "I gotta take this."
Sam nodded, because what more could he do at that point? He wasn't in a position to argue with her. She turned her back to him and walked away as she answered the call, and he had to wonder just who she was talking to. As far as he had known the two of them hadn't had any friends, and he was more than certain it couldn't be their father. Did they have new people in their lives, people who knew about what they did for a living? Or was it someone he knew, someone he hadn't spoken to or heard from since he had left?
"Hey." Dean's voice pulled him back from his thoughts, and he turned. "You want breakfast?"
Dean headed towards him, and the smallest smile crossed his face. His brother held a large paper bag under his left arm, and it was filled with nothing but junk food. He hadn't changed. He waved a bag of chips in his direction, as if to tempt him.
"I'm good." Sam offered. "Thanks."
Dean shrugged it off, as though it didn't bother him either way, and he headed around to the other side of the car. He dropped the bag of food through the open window to the back seat before he took a seat behind the wheel.
"How'd you pay for all that stuff?" Sam asked, curious. "The three of you still running credit card scams?"
Dean threw him a smirk, and he reached behind them for a bag of chips. "Well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career." he stated, unconcerned. "Besides, all we do is apply for the cards, it's not our fault they actually send them to us."
"Yeah?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "And, uh, what names did you put on the application this time?"
Dean chuckled. "Burt Aframian, and his son, Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal."
There was a pride in his voice that Sam didn't miss, and he gave a faint smile.
Dean stuffed a few chips into his mouth, and he nodded towards Danielle. "Who's she talking to, anyway?"
Sam followed his gaze towards her. She stood a few feet away from them, way out of earshot, but within shouting distance. He had to wonder if that was intentional. Was she talking about something she didn't want him to hear? She paced around slowly, still talking on the phone, and one of her hands was rested to her hip.
"I don't know." he offered, despondent. "She never said."
A soft sigh escaped him, and he couldn't help the wistful feeling that washed over him. He missed the way that things had once been between the three of them. So much had changed since the last time they had been together, and a part of him felt as though he was sitting in a car with two strangers rather than the siblings who had once been more like his best friends. The two people who sat with him were the people who had all but raised him, and he didn't know a thing about them anymore.
"How long is she gonna stay pissed at me?" he asked, maybe more to himself than the man beside him. The question had left him before he had given any time to think it through.
Dean paused, mid bite, and looked over at her. He offered a shrug. "Come on, Sam. You can't really blame her." he muttered. "You might not wanna believe it, but you really hurt her."
His tone was calm, neutral, but Sam could hear him trying to keep any ounce of accusation from his words. He didn't want to make things any worse than they already were between them, and Sam was grateful for that. He couldn't take two of them giving him the cold shoulder, because one was more than enough.
"I know." Sam admitted, despondent. "And, I don't blame her. I just..." he trailed off, because he didn't know what to say. What could he say? "I didn't mean it to happen the way he did." he said softly, guilty. "I never meant for things to end up the way they did."
"I know. And, so does she." Dean assured. "She'll come around, Sam. You'll see. Dan can't hold a grudge to save her life."
Dean looked back to her, and then he glanced towards his watch. His eyebrows raised slightly, and he shook his head.
"I'll tell you one thing that hasn't changed. She still doesn't shut up." he remarked, and there was a fond smile on his face.
Sam could see it now more than ever, the two of them really were the best of friends these days. It showed in the way that they seemed to have conversations between themselves without the need for words. It showed in the way that they seemed to fall so easily into a routine, never questioning or even noticing that they were doing it. The faces they made were almost identical, their mannerisms and actions were so much alike.
Dean climbed from the car without a word and made his way towards her, his hands shoved in his pockets. He stood before her, eyebrows raised, and he pointed towards the watch on his wrist. Danielle cracked a smile as if to tell him that his warning meant nothing to her, and he chuckled. He watched her talk on the phone for a minute or so, but, Sam noticed, there was a smile on his face. Despite what he said, it was like he had all the patience in the world to wait for her. She handed him the phone with a smirk, and whoever it was had a quick talk with him before they ended the call. Danielle didn't even blink when he placed her phone into his own pocket, never thinking twice about it.
Sam gave a sigh as he watched them, and he felt a pang of jealousy sink in his chest. It was something that he never thought he could feel with the two of them, but he had never felt so on the outside with them before. He had lost any relationship he had ever built with them in his absence, but theirs only seemed to have grown stronger, deeper. He watched as Dean threw an arm around her neck from behind, and he held her in a headlock as he ruffled her hair affectionately. All Danielle could do in response was laugh, and she elbowed him in the stomach as he released his hold of her. She turned and called him some silly name that only widened the grin on his face, and he rolled his eyes at her, amused, as she pushed him playfully in the chest.
It had been a long time since Sam had seen anything like that. And, he remembered, fighting was something they had done so much when they had been teenagers. They hadn't changed. They were still the same people. And, in that moment, they looked happy. They looked happier than he had ever seen them look before. It occurred to him, they were free. All they had ever wanted to do was hunt, and that was what they were doing. They could go anywhere they desired, do anything they wanted, and there was no one to hold them back.
Dean and Danielle were living the lives they had always craved, and he understood that now. They had worked hard to get themselves there. While he had spent his teenage years doing his school work, they had been training to become the people were today. They had listened intently to anything their father had ever taught them. They had given it their all during the weapons training. They had spent hours learning to perfect their aims. They had taken the black eyes and bruised ribs that had come with learning to fight. They had studied their father's journal, and they had hung onto every word he had to say after a hunt. He had never been interested, but they had. They had always known that this was where they would end up. And the happiness was clear in their actions.
It was only then that he realized, as he watched them laugh and joke around with each other, just how much he had missed out on since he had left. He had never wanted to cut his family out of his life, that had never been the intention. He had never wanted them to feel as though he hadn't wanted to be with them, and he wasn't sure how it had all happened that way. It was like, the longer he had left it, the more time that had passed without him calling them back, the harder it had gotten to make that first move again. He knew right there that if he could have gone back he would have answered every single one of his sister's calls in a heartbeat. He would have called his brother and tried to explain his reasons for leaving hadn't been anything to do with him. But it was too late to go back and change things now. He had made the mess, and it was his fault that things had ended up the way they had.
Only he could fix things now. And he wanted to. More than anything. He wanted to make it right.
They were almost at the car, but Dean grabbed a hold of his sister's wrist before she could step any closer. He pulled her around to face him, and the action brought a frown to Sam's face as he watched. He couldn't hear them, but there was a serious look on his face.
Danielle raised an eyebrow at him. "What?" she pressed. "You really wanna fight?"
The question brought a smile to his face, and Dean sighed dramatically. "Danielle, if you and me were really gonna fight, you wouldn't look nearly as cocky." he countered, sarcastic. "I would end you."
His sister snickered, as though amused by the idea. "Pretty confident, aren't you?" she challenged. But she noted the look on his face, and he clearly hadn't stopped her to make a joke. "What's up?"
Dean shook his head slowly, and he glanced over towards the car for a moment. "Look, Dan, I know this whole thing is kinda awkward, and I know you're really not thrilled about it, but, I don't know," He sighed. "How you holding up?"
"How am I holding up?" Her brow furrowed at the question, as though it had confused her. "I'm fine. Like you said, it's just a weekend. I think I can handle it. You worry too much."
Dean nodded, as if to say that he'd take that as an answer, even if he didn't look convinced. His sister was hurting, and it didn't take a mind reader to work that one out. There was no way that she couldn't be. And a part of him knew that it hadn't been fair to make her face their brother again after so long the way he had done. It hadn't been fair to drag him back into their lives and then force them to sit in a car together for hours. The drive had made him realize that. But, he wouldn't comment. If she said she was fine, he would believe her, even if he knew better.
"Okay." he muttered. "We better hit the road."
Sam's eyes were narrowed at them as they continued on their way towards the car, and he had to wonder what they had suddenly become so serious about in their short conversation. They had gone from laughing and play fighting to stone cold serious in seconds. Dean had looked concerned, maybe even worried, and he wasn't sure why. Maybe there was something going on that he didn't know about, maybe they had their secrets and things they didn't want him to know about, could he even be surprised if that was the case? He had been gone for far too long, there were probably things going on in their lives that he could never even hope to understand. They had more than likely been through things he couldn't even being to imagine.
It crossed his mind, had he made a different choice four years ago, had he answered those calls from his sister, maybe he would know. Maybe he wouldn't have been so on the outside. Maybe they could have stayed a part of his life. He didn't want them to be strangers. He wanted his sister to know Jess, because he knew that they'd get along. There had been times when Jess had said things to him and he had just thought about how his sister would have made the exact same joke. There was no doubt in his mind that they could have been the best of friends. He wanted his brother to know what was going on in his life. He wanted to know what they were doing, where they were going, because he didn't believe for a second that they didn't make trips out of their hunts. Without their dad, they would stop and see the sights, they would take days out and just be them, and he wanted to be able to share those moments. He wanted to hear about them, he wanted to be a part of their lives, for good. Maybe this was the weekend that could change that. Maybe, when it was all over, they didn't have to go their separate ways.
Dean climbed back behind the wheel, and Danielle returned to her place in the back seat, but neither of them said a word to him.
Sam's attention returned to the box of tapes on his lap, as though he could pretend that he hadn't been watching them intently.
His brother glanced between him and the box, and he raised an eyebrow, as if to ask him what he was doing.
Sam huffed. "Dean, man, you gotta update your cassette tape collection." he stated, and it was a lame attempt at breaking the silence that had once again fallen over the car.
But Dean only frowned at him, and he seemed genuinely confused. "Why?"
"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes." he remarked. "And, two, Black Sabbath?" He named the first tape he picked up at random. "Motorhead?" He named another. "Metallica?" He shook his head, and Dean snatched the tape from him before he could continue. "It's the greatest hits of the mullet rock."
Dean scoffed, as though offended, and he slotted the tape into the player as if to prove a point. "House rules, Sammy," he announced brightly. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole."
Sam huffed in annoyance. "You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve year old." he chided. "It's Sam."
Dean snickered, and he tossed the empty tape box carelessly over his shoulder. He heard it hit something. Instantly, he cringed.
"Ow!" Danielle whined, and she reached forwards and smacked him lightly around the back of the head. "What was that for?"
Dean turned, and the guilt was clear in his face despite the amusement. He bit back a laugh, and he held up his hands in way of an apology. "Dani, I'm sorry." he chuckled. "Not used to having anyone back there."
Danielle shook her head at him, and a smile tugged at her lips however much she tried to hide it. "You're an ass."
Dean smiled at her, genuinely smiled, and she threw him a pointed look, as if to tell him that it wasn't over. He expected nothing less. He turned his attention back to the wheel and started the car. The engine roared to life, and the music blared from the speakers.
There was a content smile on his face as he pulled out onto the highway, and something about the road ahead gave him a good feeling.
Impala — 30 Minutes Later — 11:06 AM.
Danielle glanced out of the window and she sighed deeply as they passed a sign that read, 'Jericho'. She closed her eyes again, and she went back to trying to ignore Sam's voice as it sounded through the car. She had no idea who he was talking to, but his tone was serious, and the phone had been glued to his ear for the past fifteen minutes. She hadn't been paying much attention, it was just background noise to her now. She tried to blank any thoughts from her mind, because she craved the silence. She just wanted to sleep, or to get out of that car, anything, because he wasn't sure how much longer she could take sitting there.
Sam brought back the phone and shoved it into his jacket pocket with a sigh. "Well, there's no one matching dad's description at the hospital or morgue." he offered. "So that's something, I guess."
"Hey." Dean spoke up. "Check it out."
Danielle reluctantly opened her eyes again at the sound of his voice, and she sat up a little straighter. There was a bridge ahead of the car, and it was crawling with police. The Impala cruised to a stop, and the three of them sat there for a moment. The entrance was closed off with crime scene tape, and there was a car parked in the center of the road. The doors were wide open, and there were a couple of men speaking to each other over the roof of it. Whatever had happened there, it looked serious.
Dean reached across his brother and opened the glove compartment. He took out a box and opened it on his lap. There were dozens of fake ID cards inside, enough for both of them to get into anywhere they needed to, and Sam's eyebrows raised at the sight. Dean routed through them until he found what he was looking for, and he pulled out a couple. He held one over his shoulder towards her.
"Let's go." he said brightly, and he threw open the door as he climbed out of the car.
Sam looked between them, perplexed, but he followed.
Dean and Danielle took the lead, and they strode confidently towards the scene ahead. There was no hesitation, no need for planning, and he wondered how many times they had done that before. They didn't take the time to come up with a plan or story before, it was as though they didn't need to. They already knew exactly what they were doing, and how they were going to do it. This wasn't anything new to them, that much he could tell. He wondered how many hunts they had taken without their father.
The two men that stood on opposite sides of the car seemed too deep within their own conversation to notice much of anything else going on around them. "So, this kid Troy, he's dating your daughter?" One of them was saying, and the man opposite nodded. "How's Amy doing?"
The other officer shrugged. "She's putting up missing posters down town." he offered, despondent.
Dean approached the police officer closet, and he nodded. "You had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" he pressed. His voice was casual, calm, self-assured.
The officer looked him up and down slowly, brow furrowed, before he looked to Danielle, and then to Sam.
"And, who are you?" he asked, curious, accusing.
Dean and Danielle automatically held up their fake badges, as though it was nothing but effort for them. "Federal marshals." Danielle smiled.
But that only seemed to throw him further. He looked dubious. "You three are a little young for marshals, aren't you?"
Suspicion coated his words, and Sam was so sure that he wasn't buying anything the two of them were trying to sell.
But the confidence in their stance didn't falter, not one bit. Dean smiled at him. "Thanks. That's awfully kind of you." he replied, his tone light. "You did have another one just like this, correct?" he pushed, and they moved closer towards the car.
"Yeah, that's right." he muttered. "About a mile up the road. There's been others before that."
Danielle nodded, and she squinted slightly through the sunlight. "So, this victim? You knew him?" she asked, and there was a sympathy to her tone.
The officer nodded at her. "Town like this, everybody knows everybody."
Dean circled the car, curious, and there was a frown fixed to his face. He looked to his sister, and he gave his head the smallest shake. She hid a smile. It was an action subtle enough that no one else could have noticed it between them, but Sam did. If anything, they looked amused, as though they were actually enjoying themselves. He didn't understand.
"Any connection between the victims?" she asked, as though she already knew exactly what the answer was going to be. "Aside from the fact that they're all men?"
"No," He shook his head. "Not so far as we can tell."
"So," Sam looked to him, curious. "What's the theory?"
"Honestly," The officer sighed, defeated. "We don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?"
Dean scoffed at the idea, and Danielle coughed to hide a chuckle.
"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys." he remarked.
Sam looked to them, accusing, his eyes wide, and he stamped down hard on his brother's foot. There was an amused smile on both of their faces, and he had to wonder how much fun they were really having at a potential murder scene. Did they even take the job they were doing seriously? The silence was tense between the four of them, but Dean and Danielle didn't seem concerned with that in the slightest. The officer before them looked perplexed.
Sam sighed, and he offered the man an awkward smile. "Thank you for your time." he muttered. He turned to walk away. "Gentlemen."
Dean and Danielle shared a look, but they followed his lead all the same. Dean glanced back over his shoulder, and then his attention turned to his brother. He reached out and smacked him around the back of the head.
"Ow!" Sam hissed. "What was that for?"
Dean shot him a look, accusing. "Why'd you step on my foot?"
"Why'd you have to talk to police like that?" he countered.
Dean huffed, and he stepped in front of Sam to stop him where he was. "Come on," he pushed. "They don't really know what's going on here. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're gonna find dad, we have to get to the bottom of this ourselves."
Danielle closed her eyes, and Dean saw the dread in her face. She nodded in the direction behind him, and Dean turned.
There were three men standing behind him, a sheriff and and two FBI agents. "Can I help you, kids?" asked the sheriff, accusing. Clearly they had heard too much. His eyes were narrowed in curiosity.
"No, sir, we were just leaving." Dean stated, and he smiled as he passed them. "Agent Mulder. Agent Scully." He nodded at the agents as they followed the sheriff, and there was a cocky smirk on his face.
Danielle shook her head at him, and she watched as the three men walked away. "One of these days, they're just gonna stop taking our shit and arrest us, you know."
"You worry too much." Dean remarked. "The only thing that's gonna get us caught is you giggling in front of the cops, Dani. You gotta work on your poker-face."
"Yeah, whatever you say, bro." she muttered. "Who's got the better track record at not getting arrested again? Tell me."
"Oh my god, Dan, let it go." he said, exasperated. "For the last time, none of those times were my fault."
Danielle rolled her eyes, and she turned in the direction of the car. "One of these days, Dean Winchester." she pondered. "One of these days."
"So, what do we do now?" Sam asked, and he looked between them for any kind of idea.
Dean shrugged. "We could go talk to that Amy chick?" he suggested. "Cop said she was putting up missing posters down town. If anyone knows anything about anything it's gotta be her, right?"
Danielle nodded, and she turned back to face them. She held out her hand to Dean, expectant. "Keys."
Dean's eyebrows raised. "Excuse me?"
"Keys." she said again, a little firmer, and she waved her hand in front of him. "Come on, Dean. Dad told you to share."
"Dad told me to share because you batted your eyelashes at him, like you always do." he remarked. "I keep telling you, play the daddy's girl all you want, but fluttering your lashes doesn't work on me, kiddo."
"I'm not a daddy's girl." she countered. "I can't help it that I'm cute."
"Cute is one word for it." he muttered. "I'd go with troll. Evil, blue-haired, troll."
"And, why was my hair blue again?" she asked him, and there was an accusing smile on her face. "I'm pretty sure it wasn't me that dyed it."
"Yeah." he chuckled. "That was a good one."
"A good one?" She huffed. "I nearly lost my hair trying to get it back to blonde before dad came home and saw it. You still owe me for that one, by the way."
Dean rolled his eyes, and, begrudgingly, he reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out the keys to the Impala. She went to take them from him, but he held them slightly out of her reach. "One scratch, Danielle Winchester—"
"Yeah, yeah, I know." She took the keys from him with a grin. "Such a pushover."
Dean frowned. "What was that?" he pressed.
"I said come on," she said, a little louder. "Places to be, people to save."
Dean narrowed his eyes at her, and he shoved her lightly in the back of the shoulder as she opened the door to the car. She climbed in behind the wheel and he sat beside her. Sam sat in the back, and he looked between them carefully.
"You argue like an old married couple." he observed. "Anyone ever told you that?"
Dean glanced back at him, and he chuckled. "More than once." he admitted. "Even dad's said it. Part of me thinks that's why he went off on his own. He couldn't cope with us anymore."
Danielle laughed. "He used to get so mad listening to us argue." She smiled at the thought. "His face used to go red."
"And, does dad know that you like to provoke the cops, too?" Sam pressed, amused. "Or do you not do that when you hunt with him?"
Dean opened his mouth to respond, but Danielle started the car, and, without warning, she made a sharp u-turn across the middle of the road. The tires of the car screeched, and Dean's eyes went wide as he grabbed a hold of the dash to steady himself. He threw her a look, accusing, and she grinned. "That's for the tape box to the head."
"Do that to my car again and I'll throw the whole bunch at you." he warned, but his tone was light and playful.
Danielle snickered. "So, where am I going?"
Dean shrugged. "I don't know. Take a left at the bottom of the road. I think that's the way to town." he muttered. "What are we even gonna say to this girl?"
"You tell me." She shrugged. "This was your idea, not mine. If it was up to me we'd all go to TGI Friday's and have done with it."
"Well, as soon as the case is over I promise we'll go." he offered, sarcastic. "And, by the way, that was a right."
"Yeah." She frowned. "So?"
Dean shook his head, amused. "I said left. You're hopeless, you know that? Where did you get your sense of direction?"
Danielle gave a roll of her eyes. "It's a short-cut." she muttered, but even he could see she had no idea where she was. "I know exactly where we're going."
"Last time you said you knew where you were going we ended up an entire state in the wrong direction, remember that?" he pressed. "This is why I drive, Dan."
"Oh, relax." She waved him off. "It's all under control."
Jericho, California — 02:38 PM.
"Three hours." Dean stated, there was a note of disbelief to his voice. "Three. Hours."
"Yes, Dean, we've established." Danielle remarked. "Do you wanna say it again?"
"Three hours." he proclaimed. "Three. Dan, how do you even get so lost? How does a thirty minute drive take three hours? I just—I don't understand. How?"
Danielle shrugged at him, as though it couldn't have concerned her less. "I was enjoying the riveting conversation." she deadpanned.
"I'll give you riveting conversation." he threatened. "Get out of the damn car."
"Threaten me again, this time without the smirk." she challenged, because, however much he tried to hide it, there was a smile on his face.
"Come on," Sam pressed, as though to remind them that they weren't alone. "We need to find this girl."
Danielle looked out over the busy street, and a smile came to her face. "There." She pointed towards a girl across the road. There was a stack of papers in her arms, and she nodded. "Bet you that's her." She looked to Dean. "See, I knew where I was going."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright, we can argue about this later." he muttered. "Which, we will, because you're not off the hook. And you're paying for gas money."
"As opposed to paying for it off of your fake credit card? With money you didn't earn? Or deserve?" she countered. "Sure, Dean."
Sam opened the door beside him, and he made a move to get out of the car, maybe in way of getting them to do the same, because they both seemed more than content with sitting there locked away in their own argument. He had been listening to the same thing for the past three hours, and every sarcastic remark they threw between each other, every glare and eye roll, every playful punch or facetious name they called each other, made him miss them more. He felt like a stranger, because he didn't even understand half of the jokes they made.
Dean acted as though he was so used to their sister getting them lost in the car, but he had never known his sister to be so bad at direction. Danielle joked about their brother getting himself arrested and being lousy at dodging the police, but Sam had never known him be anything but smooth when it came to the law. He realized, he didn't know them as well as he thought he had, and that hurt. To think that the two people he had once considered himself closest to in the world were now strangers was upsetting. And it left a horrible feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach.
He sighed, and he followed his brother and sister's lead as they approached the girl before them. What more could he do?
The truth of it was, Sam missed his family. At that point, he even missed their dad. He missed the way he and his siblings had once been, when it had been the three of them against the world. But there was no going back to those days, that much he knew. Dean and Danielle had each other, and it was clear that was all they needed. They were doing just fine on their own, even without their dad, maybe it was just them that couldn't see they needed no one else. He wasn't sure.
But he was going to fix things. Before he went home, before he went back to Stanford, he was going to fix things with them both. He had to.