Always {A Vampire Diaries/Supernatural crossover story} HIATUS

Chapter 34: The Bacon Thief

Chapter 34: The Bacon Thief

September 13, 2010

Danny lay in his bed that morning, hands folded behind his head, silently staring at the ceiling as Metallica blared through his headphones. 174. He hummed to himself. 1,374 if I count my time in Hell. Plus, there's also the 800 or so years of memories I have from Lukas – but I'll just count those as being part of the 1,374 years. He decided, looking over at his alarm clock just as it turned 8 o'clock.

No plans to go after Lucifer. No hell hounds chasing after me. No friends dying – at least, not so far, anyway. It's already started out as a better day than last year. He heaved a long sigh, a somewhat somber smile encroaching on his face. Maybe I could just stay in bed all day. That would be nice.

He turned his head to the left, eyeing the desk wedged between two of his four bookcases. It had a single laptop on it and was surrounded by bits and pieces of paper and a slowly accumulating pile of books. I could also continue trying to find a way to free Sam... Or find another way to kill Raphael. He brought his left hand out from behind his head, staring at the triangle shaped scar on his palm before gently brushing his fingertips over the scar going down his left eye.

I'm going to filet that bastard the next time I see him. Danny growled quietly to himself, clenching his fist and imagining that it was Raphael's heart. Of course, crushing the heart of the archangel's vessel wouldn't kill him, but it was a nice thing to think about. If I had one of those archangel blades, I could – wait. He sat up abruptly. Archangel blades... Gabriel showed one to me before. If I could just find where he stashed it... His thoughts shuddered to a stop as he let out a frustrated groan. I'm not an archangel. It wouldn't work for me.

"Alternatively, we could just lock Raph in the Cage with his brothers and be done with it," Danny mused aloud, resuming staring up at the ceiling. "Wouldn't be nearly as satisfying, but it would solve the immediate problem."

He then lapsed into a thoughtful silence, imagining all the different ways he could either get Raphael into the Cage or kill him. Preferably the latter of the two, but he wasn't too picky when it came to the lives of his friends. I wonder how the Winchesters are doing. Haven't talked to them in a while, and the twins' birthday is coming up in a week. I should call them. He decided.

He reached over to his nightstand, frowning when his hand only came in contact with his clock and the lamp. He turned his head, sitting up in mild alarm upon discovering that his phone was not there. He checked behind the nightstand, wondering if it had fallen behind there. When he learned that it had not, he rose from his bed and walked hurriedly towards his door. He exited it, turning and locking it behind him before vamping down the stairs to the living room. He picked up pillows and cushions, wondering if it had fallen in the couch the previous night.

He heard movement coming from the direction of the kitchen, and rushed over to see Damon moving around.

"Hey, Damon, have you seen my -" he stopped abruptly, frowning at his brother. "What are you doing?"

Damon looked up, holding a spatula in his hand as he briefly glanced at the oldest Salvatore before looking back down at the stove, saying, "Making pancakes."

"'Making pancakes?'" Danny repeated in a tone of disbelief. "And you haven't burned the house down yet?"

"When have I ever done that?" Damon asked, an audible smirk in his voice.

"Uh, does May of 1978 ring a bell, Damon?" Danny replied, leaning against the entryway to the kitchen as his brother paused. "You burned down my house in Fitchburg."