Chapter Text
The kid was fucking terrifying.
A month had already passed by and Danny adjusted pretty well in the house, somewhat. The thing is, he was quiet and sneaky, naturally so. The number of times that Billy went to the kitchen at 2 am only to be startled by Danny standing alone in a dark hallway with his black bear plush—Obbi, as it was called—and calling up his name while the man was just trying to serve himself some water. Billy claimed that the kid did it on purpose, as more than once he saw the little shit smirk, not that he told the kid that. Even if he hated that the kid did that, it showed skill and Danny seemed happy when it worked, so Billy didn't mention anything.
Stu on the other hand was surprised by Danny's ‘gifts’. The 10-year-old didn't hide the fact that he adored the taller adult of the house, even if the way that the kid showed his love was thru dead animals—not dogs, Billy made clear that the dogs were out of reach. Sometimes, the first thing that the man saw in the morning beside his lovely partner was a clearly dead dove on the foot of the bed.
Even if in a feral weird way, Stu was kinda proud. Catching a bird without a ranged weapon? Danny was going places—murder sprees that ended up with him as the ‘survivor’ to then said murder spree to be adapted into a movie saga, but still, places—and he was going to make sure of that.
Danny didn’t talk that much for the first weeks, mostly silently asking for things and communicating by nods, tension still strong within him. Didn't help that Stu wasn't really around those first days, as his book—his third one—was finally published so a lot of publicity stunts were made away from Woodsboro itself. It was just Billy and Danny.
Stu convinced himself that nothing bad would happen.
The first day without him, Billy took Danny hunting
“Let's get things straight, all right?” Danny was seated beside him in Billy’s old Ford F-100 truck, holding Stu’s old camera with curiosity, figuring out how it worked with dubious fingers. At 7 pm, the older man had woken up the child and told him to be ready before eight, as they were going on a supposed road trip. Billy packed a few things in the back of the truck as Stu made breakfast for Danny and then the pair went on their merry way. “I'm not planning on killing that woman.”
Danny stopped fidgeting the camera and looked up to him, eyes narrowed “-but you said-“
“I said I am not planning on killing that woman.” He cut him off, taking his sights of the road for a few seconds. “You will. I will not help you, not in execution nor the planning, maybe you can convince Stu on that, as you already convinced him to drag you into this mess.” As he finished he saw Danny staring intently at him from the corner of his eye, with what intent, he couldn’t tell.
“You are taking me to her?” It was obvious from the way the words came out the kid's mouth that he was trying to sound more tough than scared, something he would have to work on—but Billy couldn’t help at that, Stu was the actor.
“Not today.” Relief floored the kid. “I may not help you with killing the bitch, but as you are now? You can’t even kill a five-year-old.” Danny opened his mouth, seemly to argue about that last remark, but decided against it. He began to fidget with the camera again and that tension from yesterday came up again.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Hunting. You need to learn.” Billy said casually as the car started to slow down, changing from third to second smoothly. “Someday, you will kill that woman, but first, you need to learn.”
Danny stared at the dying deer, a bleeding wound made by Billy’s rifle keeping the animal immobile. Its eyes were deep black, the sclera almost unnoticeable, and it was just looking at him, waiting.
“Go on.” Billy stood behind him, a knife on his extended arm. “Kill it.”
Danny grabbed it and before making a step toward the animal, he spoke to the man.
“Can I keep the antlers?”
The grin that appeared in Loomis's mouth was big enough to answer.
“What are we doing now?”
After hunting one deer and a few fish in the near river, the pair then moved on to sell the pelt and after that ended up at home, cooking up the fish. Of course, Billy tried teaching Danny how to properly gut a fish… task that ended up with a bloodied kid and a grown-up man learning that fishes contain more blood than he knew. Food eventually was made and right now, Danny was on his pajamas—a chessy pattern of ghost that Stu chose for him—with Obbi in his hand, sitting in front of the TV along with Billy.
“Now, we watch the cinema.”
“Movies?”
“No, no, no… cinema, the peak of the peak.”
“And that is?”
“Slasher movies.”