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Danny stared at the traces of sunlight seeping through the curtains as dawn broke. It felt almost insulting how time moved at the same pace no matter what happened to him. All the drama of last night barely took more than a few hours despite every second feeling like an eternity. The memories were all fresh and he couldn't stop obsessing over every mistake he'd made.
Watching from the top of the hill as Sam reached out to the kelpie to run a hand along its neck. Her screams as she realized she was stuck and being dragged into the water. The blind panic as he'd transformed, Crowley's order echoing as he did, Show off as much as you want, doesn't bother me none if they find out what you are because you can't stop yourself playing hero. The instant silence as he dove underwater. His relief at finding her in the dark waters and phasing her away from the kelpie and back to shore, and the shock and dread at meeting Dean pointing a loaded gun loaded at him.
Absolutely no fighting back though. If they wanna fill you with bullets that's their prerogative. Yours is to stick to them like glue, maybe learn a thing or two while you're at it.
The main things he remembered after were noise. Sam coughing and hacking up water. Dean demanding he drop her, murder in his eyes. The crashing water as the kelpie burst from the river charging and screaming. The flashes and bangs as Dean unloaded his gun into it. Sam looking up at him and saying his name and not knowing if Dean had heard her.
And Danny had been trapped. They couldn't vanish, Sam and Dean would never stop searching for Sam. He couldn't run away and magically reappear. Dean wasn't stupid. He refused to leave Sam behind, but if he stayed there in his ghost form Dean would attack him next. There was no perfect solution, no good option, nothing safe. So he'd transformed back.
Danny flinched as Dean's voice rose. It didn't take long to recount everything to Sam once they got back to the motel room. He actually thought Dean might have already told the story once in the car but he'd hadn't been listening. He'd been, he still was, recovering from his goodbye with Sam. The only goodbye he'd been able to give any of his friends.
Dean paced like a caged predator, eyes never leaving Danny. Sam had asked questions Dean had answered and Danny hadn't. The brothers had been going over the details for a while now and Danny had mentally checked out at some point. He was pulled back in when Sam, who'd been standing by the door until now, sat on the bed across from him. He met Danny's eyes, making sure he held his attention, and asked, "Danny, what are you?"
Danny wanted to answer. Tell them every stupid choice and mistake forcing him to be anchored to these hunters. Explain everything so that maybe someone might be able to help him make sense of the mess he was trapped in and why he couldn't just leave, but just the thought of speaking made the heat branded into his very essence flare. It was the same deep burn he felt every time he considered running away, and the pain of it searing into his soul stifled any answer. Crowley had been clear about giving any details about himself. Remember, no loose lips.
So Danny shrugged.
Sam sighed and Dean nearly growled, past words with how worked up he'd gotten. Sam gave Dean a look before bringing his attention back to Danny. "Okay, can you tell us if you're a danger to us, or anyone else?"
Danny shook his head, "No, not under normal circumstances at least."
"What are normal circumstances?" Dean asked.
That question made him pause, honestly he'd never experienced anything except the abnormal, but he tried his best. "I'm not really sure, but I'm not like a vampire or werewolf. I don't need blood, or hearts, or any other body parts to survive, well except my own I guess. Just food, people food."
Dean did not seem mollified by the answer. "Is there any chance of that changing?"
"I don't- probably not?"
"Probably? What falls under probably?"
Danny snapped, "I don't know. I've never done anything to hurt anyone, I've only helped people. You're the ones who kill for a living."
Sam moved and put himself between the two, "Okay that's enough. No one is in any immediate danger and it's not like this is a surprise Dean. We knew Crowley had some ulterior motive for dropping Danny on us, this is definitely part of it."
Dean stalked forward, barely lowering his voice. "And we're supposed to be okay with it. Some time bomb, monster kid hanging around with us because the literal king of Hell asked us to be his babysitters."
"Yes. We could have said no. You could have said no."
Dean glared past Sam at Danny. "Yeah, well, maybe we should have." He stalked towards the door and opened it, "I'm heading out for some fresh air," and slammed it behind him.
Sam turned back to Danny. "He didn't mean that, he's just angry."
Danny didn't meet his eyes, "Sure, whatever."
Sam sighed. "Why don't you finish packing up your stuff, we're checking out soon as the front desk opens up."
Danny didn't argue, just grabbed his bag and packed away the few pieces of clothes he'd brought into the room. Sam took care of Dean's stuff and the hunting gear they'd brought in. It didn't take much time and when they were done they still had over an hour wait. Sam turned on the TV to the local news and Danny barely lasted a minute stewing in the tense atmosphere before he stood up and said, "I'm gonna go for a walk."
Sam looked surprised and asked, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
Danny shrugged. "I can take care of myself."
Sam waited a long moment before answering, "Right, well don't be gone too long."
Danny left and hung a right towards the twenty-four hour gas station near the motel. He wasn't even sure what he wanted, but it was something to do and the junk food would be something normal. He opened the door and a chime rang, the cashier barely glanced up before putting their attention back to the show they had playing behind the counter. Danny went straight towards the soda machine, scanned the sizes and prices, and belatedly realized he should have checked his wallet first. Dreading what he'd find, he unfolded it and looked inside.
He had, at most, three dollars. Assuming most of the coins stuck in the bottom were dimes and not pennies. He considered his options, then sighed and grabbed the largest soda cup available and started adding every flavor of soda he could in random amounts before adding ice. He perused the candy and snacks, hoping to find something cheap, but had no luck. He heard the door chime as someone else entered and took that as his cue to leave.
He came around back to the register and froze when he saw Dean pointing behind the cashier. "Pack of Marlboro Reds." The cashier glanced over at Danny before turning to grab the cigarettes, Dean followed the cashiers glance and saw him standing there. They stared at each other, Danny frozen like a deer in headlights. Dean sighed. "Add on the kid's soda too." He looked back, "Got anything else?" Danny shook his head and Dean grabbed two packs of Twinkies from the nearby display. He paid for everything, tossing one of the packs at Danny.
Danny trailed behind Dean and followed him to an isolated corner of the gas station parking lot as he ripped open the pack of cigarettes and lit one. Danny watched Dean take a long drag and said, "I didn't know you smoked."
Dean glanced at him. "I don't."
"Right."
Dean glared. "I don't. I make exceptions when I'm stressed, but it's not a regular thing."
Danny ripped open his pack of Twinkies and asked, "So what usually prompts your exceptions?"
"End of the world earned a few," Dean deadpanned.
Danny stopped mid-bite to gauge if Dean was serious. Dean's lip quirked as he dragged on the cigarette but he didn't expand further. Danny narrowed his eyes and asked, "Are you saying I'm as stressful as the end of the world?"
"Definitely not. End of the world had me close to a pack a day sometimes. You're getting one, maybe two."
"Wow, nice to know I'm not as terrible as the literal end of the world, appreciate the vote of confidence." Danny ate his Twinkie as Dean laughed. They sat in an easier silence as Danny waited for Dean to finish smoking.
When he finished he flicked the butt into the ashtray of a nearby garbage can and opened his own pack of Twinkies. "So, what can you tell us about yourself?"
It was a question the brothers had asked before, almost verbatim, with poor results, Absolutely no personal information, no names, places, not even childhood stories, but the intention behind it was different this time. Danny mulled over his answer. It was a question he'd considered long before Dean thought to ask it. No blabbing about what you are, or how you got like this. "I wasn't born this way, and after I changed all I wanted to do was help people."
"And did you?"
"I think so, until things got really bad." Unwanted memories of Sam's broken hand, limp and unmoving and Tucker's cracked open head with blank, unseeing eyes rose up. He shoved them back down with practiced ease.
"How bad?"
Absolutely nothing about our deal. No what, no why, no where, and especially no when. You don't share a single word about it, capisce?
"How do you think I ended up here?"
Dean sighed and lit another cigarette. "Right."
Talk died as Danny drank his soda and Dean finished his second cigarette, and a third. Danny could see him think about a fourth before he put the pack away and gestured for Danny to follow. "C'mon, time to get outta here."
Dean sighed for what he felt was probably the hundred-millionth time as he pulled out the pack of Marlboro Reds. Sam and Danny were watching a movie on the hotel TV after they'd stopped driving and found a decent place to stay. He'd feigned disinterest and slipped outside, itching for another cigarette. One of most annoying things about smoking was how easy it was to fall back into the habit. There was always another excuse to start again, but he was usually pretty good at ignoring them. The problem was his most recent excuse to start back up couldn't be ignored for more than a few hours at a time since it was living with them.
Dean leaned against the Impala and flicked his lighter and took a short drag of the cigarette, letting out the little bit of smoke with another sigh. Truth be told, Danny wasn't that bad. Quiet, but he'd shown off a sharp wit a few times. He remembered how creepy the kid looked surfacing from the water, and how easily he knocked back the kelpie. Then he scowled as he remembered how Danny had broken down at saying good bye to his friend. He didn't know what game Crowley was playing, but the whole thing made him want to cave the demon's smug face in.
He'd barely been outside for five minutes when he heard Sam's voice calling out his name. He let out a short, "shit," under his breath before tossing the half-smoked cigarette onto the asphalt and smothering it with his boot.
Sam made his way over and leaned against the Impala's hood, giving Dean a bemused look. "Don't stop on my account."
"Don't know what you're talking about."
"You know, I know that you smoke. You've slipped up more than once."
"Smoking, Sammy, is bad for you. As your responsible older brother I need to set a good example so you don't grow up into a degenerate rule-breaker."
Sam laughed, "Right, of course. Yet you have no problem letting Danny be influenced by your degenerate ways."
"That little- did he fucking snitch on me?"
Sam laughed again. "Not on purpose. I don't think he realized it was supposed to be a secret, but yeah, he was the one who suggested you'd stepped out for a smoke break."
"I can't believe this. The kid's mouth is locked tighter than a safe on his entire life story, but give him one little tidbit about me and it slips out within the day. Unbelievable."
"The problem," a new voice piped in, "is that you don't have any leverage." Crowley waved cheerily at them with one hand, the other leaning against the trunk of the car. "Hello boys, how are we today?"
"Jesus fuck." Dean jumped back.
Crowley shrugged, "That was before my time so I couldn't say if he did for sure, I'll ask around for you though. In the meantime don't suppose I could bum a fag?"
Sam stepped in before Dean could reply. "What do you want Crowley?"
"I'll take it that's a no on the smoke then?" He sighed dramatically, "Fine, right to business. One of my boys noticed someone, I assume Bobby since you two knuckle heads are busy babysitting, calling around to ask for some papers he shouldn't know to ask for. I was checking in to see how that came to be." He looked at them expectantly.
"Because we'll always outsmart scummy, lowlife demons?" Dean answered.
"That's funny, really. Fine, I'll ask Danny. I know I asked you to teach him, but you two could really learn a thing or two from him about how to properly listen."
Sam blocked Crowley's way before he could move. "We ran into a friend of his, and it gave us a lead."
Crowley leaned back against the trunk. "See, was that so hard?" His face took on a more frustrated expression, "Was that really it? You know you two really have got the most inconvenient luck sometimes."
"Cry me a river," Dean said, "long as we're sharing mind telling us what the hell the kid is?"
Crowley laughed. "He already showed you? Damn, probably had something to do with that friend didn't it? He really is a little softy for them."
"What the hell is he?"
"Nothing to do with Hell, promise you that. Rest you'll have to find out on your own. I'm sure you'll get it in no time with that devil's luck on your side, and if you don't," he shrugged, "well, no skin off my back at the very least."
Sam pulled Dean back with a hand on his shoulder and stepped forward. "Ya know Crowley, I'm starting to wonder if we should keep playing along with this little game of yours. Raising your baby monster until its big and strong? I'm not sure I see the benefit for us."
Crowley faked a wince. "Benefit? He's just a kid you know and that's a bit harsh don't you think?" He stage whispered, "Especially coming from you considering your family's whole sordid past with raising monsters." Both brothers tensed but before they could reply Crowley continued in a regular speaking voice, "I suppose I can give a few hints about dear little Danny boy though. Did you know he can't die? Not permanently at least."
There was a pause before Dean asked, voice dangerously low, "How do you know that?"
He smiled "That'd be telling now, wouldn't it? Another fun fact you seem to have forgotten is that I own him," he yelled the last few words and they echoed around the motel parking lot. The street lights around them flickering. All the mirth left Crowley's voice as he continued, "and I refuse to let any of tool of mine be dead weight. So your options are give him back to me to toss him at whatever fucking monster I please until figures out how to kill it one way or another, or you do what you already agreed to do and train him up until he's competent enough that all the scary things out there won't rip his throat before he gets a first punch in. Which will it be?"
Crowley's echo faded away, the lights correcting back to their norm until there was only the buzz of electricity filling the silence. Through clenched teeth Dean answered, "The kid stays with us."
Crowley walked forward and clapped him on the shoulder, "Good man." Dean slapped his hand away.
Crowley walked away towards the edge of the parking lot and into the shadows, calling over his shoulder, "Oh and boys, no visits home for Danny. He's all done with that place, and it's about time he moved on." Then vanished.