A/N: Thanks again to all who reviewed! Here's a new chapter! Oh, and yes, Danny has a bit of a potty-mouth, so I apologize...I did tell him to go wash his mouth out afterwards, but...you know, he's kinda scary... Anyways, I hope you enjoy the new chapter!
He sat with his arm thrown over the back of the dirty old couch, one leg resting on the other half of the couch. One leg resting on the floor, he held a half-empty beer bottle on his left knee and a photograph in his hand. Taking a swig of the beer, he exhaled deeply, filling the room up with the fowl smell of alcohol and musky cigarettes. The photograph he held in his hand was old; it was ripped in certain places, heck it had been taken over 20 years ago. When things were good in the Sidle children's lives.
He remembered all those years ago- there years when they were actually fairly happy kids- he used to play with his little sister, making sure that she was safe at all times. Whenever she fell and scraped her knee, he had been there to brush away her tears and tell her it was okay. Whenever she grew a picture, he was there to praise her and tell her how pretty it was.
But then there came what seemed to be the Dark Ages of the Sidle family. Their father came home drunk, occasionally bringing other people into his home- people that his wife and children had never even seen before- and he became a completely different person. Much different than the loving father Sara and Daniel once knew.
Daniel tried his best to protect his baby sister from their drunken father, but after a while, he realized something. He couldn't be with her all the time, it was impossible, and she needed to realize that. And besides, he had his own life, his sister could take care of herself. She just needed to grow up, he decided. And it must've been the drugs that finally knocked some sense into him, he thought, because after he started the drugs things were much different.
He was no longer the kind, loving brother from before. He no longer willingly played with his little sister just to make her happy, or helped her up when she fell. He also no longer protected her from their father. Why did he do this? Again, he had his own life, and his geeky little sister was just getting in the way. After a while he forgot about his original motives for doing this in the first place, and he grew hard and cold, a completely different person. It was very similar to what happened to their father.
Looking down at the photograph, Daniel growled as he noticed how happy they all looked in the picture. He was standing there, an arm wrapped around his little sister's shoulder as he smiled for the picture. She was standing there, with just an equally satisfying smile on her face, exposing the teeth in her mouth that hadn't quite come in yet. They both had that sparkle to their eyes, that little tiny sparkle that only came when they were truly having a good time, enjoying themselves.
Daniel smashed the photo in his hand, balling it into a tight fist. Looking down at the old coffee table in front of him, he pushed old newspapers and paper bags away until he saw what he was looking for. He found his metal lighter and flicked the switch a few times before the flame appeared. Putting the flame underneath the picture, he watched as the picture coiled into a scorched black ball, all of the memories faded and thrown onto the floor to make a tiny pile of ashes.
"God I need a smoke.." Daniel sighed, looking around for a pack of cigarettes. Throwing a newspaper down, he picked up a small white pack and took one out, slipping it in his mouth as he flicked the lighter again. "Come on, dammit.." he growled, getting frustrated as he continued to try and get the flame to appear.
That was another thing his little sister had noticed about him when he started the drugs. He had a very short temper, and he was actually becoming very violent. He would throw things across the room, he would shove her into walls, he would sock her sometimes, just because he could. He was becoming violent, he was becoming his father. And Sara and Daniel had both vowed to never become their parents, that was something they had promised each other as well as themselves.
But for Daniel Sidle, it seemed as though all hope was lost. He was going to become his father whether he wanted to or not, apparently.
"Goddammit!" he yelled, throwing the lighter down on the floor. It fell to the floor, making the fate sound of metal hitting concrete, and he quickly got to his feet, the un-lit cigarette falling from his mouth to the floor. Growling in anger once again, he quickly kneeled down and put his hands underneath the old coffee table until he was gripping it, and he turned it over, watching as his act of anger unfolded in front of him. The table smashed into a wall, taking down an old already-cracked mirror with it. Running over to the kitchen of the old run-down house he was in, he grabbed an old kitchen chair and grunted as he threw it across the room.
Soon the building looked worse than it did- floorboards were actually missing from some of the walls, tables were turned over, the sink of the old kitchen had been pulled out and thrown into one of the old bedrooms.
And Daniel was standing above it all, panting with anger and exhaustion as he observed his destruction of the building. He still felt the need to throw something, but the door opened and in walked one of his many partners in crime.
"Hey Danny!" said a tall man with black hair. Looking around the house, he yelled, "Jesus, what happened?"
"Just give me the damn news!" Daniel yelled, his hands balling into fists.
"Okay, okay," the man said, the fear of Daniel's wrath evident in his green eyes. "We've got the supplies," the man told him. "And the gun."
"...Good.." Daniel finally said, a certain firmness to his tone. He was in charge and if these people didn't do what he asked there would be consequences.
"...Hey, man..." the man said, looking down at his hands. "You're bleeding, man..."
Daniel looked down at his hands, just then noticing the torn-up skin, obviously sustained during his line of rage. Walking over to the couch, Daniel grabbed a small cloth lying on a coushin and ripped part of it, wrapping it around his hands. "...And I know where Sara lives, so this should all be in order."
"Are you sure you want to do this?" the man asked. "I mean...you said she's with the LVPD, this could really go downhill fast.."
"What did you just say?" Daniel asked.
"I asked if you really wanted to do this because it cou--" And then before he could get any further, Daniel had slammed him up against the wall, lifting him up by his shirt collar.
"You don't question me, okay?" Daniel asked. "You do that again..." He reached into his pocket and a knife snapped out from its black handle. "And I'm going to shove this knife right into your fucking heart, do you hear me?"
"...Yeah..." the man said timidly. "Yeah, I do Daniel, I'm sorry.."
"You're damn right you're sorry!" Daniel yelled, finally letting go of him. Walking over to the front door of the house, he threw it open and stepped out onto the porch, leaning against the railing as the blade of his knife receeded back into its handle and he put it back in his back pocket. "You said the car was going to be here," Daniel hissed.
"It's coming," the man said, still trying to keep his distance from him. "They said they were coming."
Daniel just impatiently drummed his fingers against the rusting metal railing as he waited for the car to come. It was getting late, and they were supposed to move into action the second the clock struck ten o'clock. They were going to drive from here to Sara's apartment, pick her up (with or without her consent), head over to the original crime-scene and do what they needed to do. It was simple, Daniel thought, unless Baby Sister had to go and make it complicated.
A smirk creeped around the corners of Daniel's mouth as he heard the car pull up. Walking down the walk-way, he got inside and pushed the driver out of the way, taking control of the car. When the other men had jumped into the car, he started it up again.
"Time to go pay Little Sister another visit."