How It All Came To

By Sandy Toes


It was an unusually sticky morning. The summer heat pounded down upon the black roads, as the dark asphalt soaked in every bit of the sun's rays. Unfortunately, this meant the air was just as warm and sticky. Quickly pulling his shirt out a bit from his chest, then letting go and sighing heavily as the bit of air washed up his neck.

Again, with the same hand he had used to fan his shirt, the FBI agent fixed his sunglasses. For some reason, the sun was especially bright that late morning. It was as if the star was somehow trying to keep Danny from being comfortable in his car. "Just when the air conditioning breaks too," the Hispanic man said as he looked out from underneath his visor.

Luckily, Danny was almost to the office, and even though the car was hot, it wasn't unbearable with the windows opened. Yet it still seemed the world was working against him as he pulled in behind a red Chevy. The car was completely, or nearly stopped. Wondering what was going on, and not being able to see, Danny squinted from behind his sunglasses.

Rolling his eyes as he saw a large traffic jam, the FBI agent turned to face behind him as he was about to pull back out. However, this turned out to be a futile attempt at escape as a pick up had pulled up behind him. Taking in a deep breath, Danny tried to keep his cool as a bit of anger and frustration rose up in him.

Flipping open his cell phone, Danny pressed the #1 on his speed dial and listened as the phone automatically dialed the office. Luckily, Danny's patience were not tested too much as after only two rings a voice came from the other end. "FBI," Vivian answered. "Hey, Viv, it's me. Can you let Jack know I'm going to be late. I've got a bit of traffic trouble." Danny almost heard a bit of laughter on the other end as the pickup behind him blared his horn and shouted some choice words.

Realizing there was room to pull up, Danny gently moved the car forward and continued his conversation with Vivian. "It might be a while." "Don't worry, I'll explain why your so late." Danny let out a small sigh, more of frustration than anything else, then began to thank Vivian before he forgot his manners. "Thanks Vi-" However, the FBI agent wasn't able to complete what he was saying.

The streets were suddenly in panic and the sound of police sirens blared down the streets. Danny hadn't realized this until he saw the silver Buick heading his way, hitting one person on the sidewalk as it desperately tried to escape the cops. Something went wrong as it turned and it was only a matter of seconds before the Buick was barreling towards Danny's car.

On the other end of the phone, Vivian could only hear Danny go silent, then a moment later there was a loud screech, the breaking of glass, and the crumpling of metal. Standing from her seat, and almost ripping the phone out of the wall, Vivian called into the phone, "Danny!?" there was no response, only the slight noise of traffic and sirens. "Danny!"

One Day, Many Years Ago

There was a car, a black car. It had what any car would have. A roof, four tires, windows, and passengers. Three passengers. Three ordinary passengers. And like any ordinary passengers they drove this car and they had a destination. However, this destination is not important. What is important is not the outside of the car, not where it was going, not what road it was on, but what was happening, inside the car.

The toy slammed up against the wind shield, one of the mini blue wheels breaking off. A rough, large hand slammed down on the white airplane, only further damaging the toy. Ripping the toy off the dash board where it had landed, the owner of the hand just glared at it. With a nasty scowl on his face, the man holding the plane turned his head to look in the back seat of the car.

"What do you think you're doing?!" the man yelled, his Hispanic heritage coming out in his accent. "Hmm?!" The man asked, holding tightly onto the plane then tossing it hard into the back seat. Turning back to the road, the man gritted his teeth roughly handled the steering wheel. His anger was beginning to grow even more, as he rigidly moved the steering wheel of the black car.

A woman sat in the passenger seat. She looked a bit like the man, but not completely like him. Both of them had dark hair and a gentle tan skin. However, the woman was much slimmer and even more attractive. Her eyes were deep olive and her face held a natural love and kindness to it. Yet she was still capable of looking fierce.

Glaring at the man next to her, she unbuckled her seat belt and allowed it to hang next to the seat. "Eric! You could be a bit more gentle on him. You beat him enough at home, do you honestly have to do it when we're in the car?!" the slender woman held the same accent as the man. Only hers was heavier and flowed more easily with the words. "It's alright Danny." Looking back towards the back seat, the woman cooed the name 'Danny' as her hands reached out to the young boy.

The young child had his legs up by his chest and his hands lay next to him in small fists of anger. Gently the child shook as he sent a death glare to the man in the driver's seat. The plane sat on the floor of the car now, hitting the boy's blue jeans and uncovered arms just a moment ago. "C'mon Danny, it's alright. He won't hurt you," again, the woman stretched out her comforting arms. But instead of going to his mother, Danny spat out in distaste: "Bastard!"

A look of shock and horror was slapped across the faces of the boy's parents. The woman let her arms drop and she turned back around. Meanwhile, the man known as Eric, twisted his head sharply around to glare at his son, "What did you call me?" His tone was low and threatening.

"You heard me, stupid," Danny mumbled, his eyes looking away from the man's own bulging eyes. Folding his arms over his raised knees, Danny placed his head on his scrawny limbs. Slowly turning back to his father, the boy cried in surprise and pain as a flyswatter slapped him across the face. Danny instinctively grabbed his cheek as it began to turn red.

Taking in a shaky breath, trying to control the pain and the tears, Danny looked as his mother in her seat. But the woman only sat there, looking at her son from the rear view mirror. She shook her head in disappointment and broke eye contact. At this point Danny let the tears come. He wouldn't cry out, but he could show his sorrow.

As Danny's cheeks grew wet, the man known as his father grew angrier. He hated it when his son cried. It showed weakness. And to him, weakness was an opening for pain. Glaring at the boy again, Eric roughly grunted, "Stop that." However, Danny only scowled at him and allowed the tears to continue. "I said stop that!" the man growled. Still Danny cried and he put on the fiercest face an eight year old boy could.

Gritting his teeth again, Eric no longer cared about upsetting his wife. Holding the steering wheel with one hand, the man reached into the backseat with the other, his body twisting so he could reach. Danny screamed as the man's hard hand wrapped around his thin wrist. Nearly pulling Danny through his seatbelt, Eric held the boy close to the front seat. "Now you listen to me, you little-"

"Eric!" the woman next to him screamed. Letting go of Danny, the man turned around just in time to see the oncoming truck. Turning the steering wheel of the car, Eric brought the vehicle off the road. Danny watched in horror from the backseat as the car nearly missed the truck and was heading towards a tree on the side of the rode. The fear was like nothing the child had ever felt as his heart tightened in his chest and his stomach turned. Then the impact.

There was a metallic taste in his mouth and what seemed like a liquid a slid over his tongue. There was a dull pain in his head, as if his father had just hit him, hard. A thin blackness was all around him, but it was gradually giving way to light. Then there was a smell, a most horrible smell. It was smoke, and it was blood, and it was thick.

Opening his eyes fully, Danny tried to shake off the sudden feeling of nausea. Picking up one of his hands, the boy realized he was shaking something terribly. Rubbing the shaking hand over his face, the boy soon realized that he had cut his lip and there was a bump on his head. Taking in a shaky breath, Danny tried to calm himself. His mind was frantic and his body was telling him he needed aid. That's when he thought of his parents.

Looking up to the front seat, where his mother use to be, Danny's eyes fell upon some broken glass. He followed the glass to underneath the dash board, that's when he looked up to see his mother's feet. They still hung just inside the car, all cut up and bloody. Meanwhile, the rest of the woman's body lay across the hood of the car, her head slammed into the tree. She wasn't moving.

Shocked and frightened, Danny unbuckled his seat belt and put a hand on the front seat. Being careful, the boy pulled himself up to the front. Looking at his dead mother one more time, Danny turned to the driver's seat. There sat his abusive father, his head resting on the steering wheel, eyes shut and blood trickling from his mouth. Taking in another breath, Danny closed his eyes and stopped breathing for a moment.

Then there was a sudden pressure on Danny's hand and the distinct feeling of someone else's blood on his arm. Opening his eyes, Danny immediately tried to pull away. Put his father still had some strength in him as his eyes stared at Danny. They seemed almost empty as the man lay there dying. "Danny," he hoarsely said, his vigor leaving him. "Danny."

"No, no, no!" Danny cried, trying again and again to pull his arm from Eric's grip. But nothing would work. "Danny," the man said again, this time his eyes looking away from the child and to the seat behind him. "Marissa," the man said this time, mourning for his wife. Meanwhile, Danny had gripped his arm with his other hand, trying to keep the man from grabbing him even more. "I'm sorry," the child cried as tears once again came to him.

Just as Danny apologized, Eric looked at him wearily. There was only time for one look as the man's eyes glazed over and his breathing gave out.

Realizing he was free from the man's grip, Danny allowed Eric's hand to fall. Breathing rapidly from the grief and fear gripping him, Danny panicked. Falling into the back seat, the child merely stared forward for a moment, his eyes not really focusing. Then he snapped himself back into reality as the aching in his head grew worst. Turning to the left door, Danny reached over and tried the handle. It was locked. Unlocking the door, Danny tried again. But it still wouldn't open.

Frustrated, the young child went to the right door. It was the same scenario. Quickly Danny pulled away and climbed into the front passenger seat, his hand getting a small cut on one of the glass pieces. Taking a tight grip on the handle, Danny pulled on it hard. The only reaction was the handle going a bit further than it should and door staying closed. Pulling on it a few more times, Danny began to cry again.

Turning to his dead father, the child climbed over the body and tried desperately to open the door. But a fallen tree was blocking both the left doors. Letting go of the handle and giving an angry and frightened cry, Danny fell back into the passenger seat. He looked towards the broken windshield, but found that his mother's body was blocking it. Thus keeping Danny from getting out of the car.

Suddenly, the child's breath began to quicken as fear and anger rose up in him. He felt crowded and guilty. Danny began to sweat, the salty liquid mixed with his tears. Gritting his teeth and shaking slightly, Danny yelled as loud as he could. Then he nearly went mad as he turned to the door behind him and tried to open it again and again, all the while yelling.

Finding it futile, Danny scrambled back into the backseat and went for the other right door. This too wouldn't open for the second time. Giving off one more scream, Danny fell against the door and pounded his fist on the glass. It made a dull thudding noise, then there was silence. Danny's breathing was still quick, but it began to settle. His mind wasn't racing anymore, his heart wasn't tearing itself apart in panic.

Turning back around, Danny leaned against the door and slid into a slouching position. He was stuck in the car, with his dead parents, on a hot summer day. Closing his eyes, Danny begged and prayed that he would be asleep before he died. But in the silence, and in the darkness, he heard something. A voice. A soft, gentle voice, calling him. Calling him.


"Danny, Danny? Please wake up," Danny felt the darkness around his consciousness being lifted and a warmth was taking over the cold emptiness he was feeling. "Danny," came the voice again. Only this time a bit less urgent. Stirring just a bit, the man fought off the pain that was threatening to send him back into oblivion. Scrunching up his face in attempt to open his eyes, Danny soon realized what a headache he had. "Martin, he's waking up."

Light flooded into Danny's eyes, causing him to quickly close them again. Slowly opening them, Danny allowed his eyes to adjust to the bright light as two dark figures came into focus. His vision still a bit fuzzy, Danny recalled the voice he had heard calling his name. "Sam?" the man asked, looking towards the more slender figure.

"Yeah, it's me. Martin's here too," Sam said, smiling down on her friend, then looking over to Martin who stood on the other side of the hospital bed. Squinting, Danny turned his head towards the man to his right. Martin smiled in return. "Hey, how you feeling?"

Shaking his head a bit, Danny tried to concentrate and figure out why he was in the hospital in the first place. But at the moment, he answered Martin's question, "I have a headache. But what happened?"

Sam leaned a bit closer and spoke softly, so as not to make Danny's headache any worse. "You were in a car accident while on the phone with Vivian. She heard the crash and told us something had happened. By the time we got to you, they had already taken you to the hospital," Sam said, taking a break so Danny could take in all the information. Watching him, and seeing that he understood, she continued, "Martin and I came to see how you were doing. But when we got here you were still unconscious. That was all about two hours ago. Viv and Jack are helping interrogate the man who hit you." Placing her hair behind her ear, Sam stood up straight and then spoke to Martin. "I'm going to call Jack."

Martin nodded and pulled up a chair near Danny. As Sam left, both men watched her then faced each other. "Some way to start the day, huh?" The small comment was just enough as Danny put on a small smile and nodded slightly. "Yeah, just my luck." For a moment, they were silent. Then Martin spoke again. "While… while you were asleep, it seemed like you were having a nightmare. What was that all about?"

Danny was silent again, his mind seemed to have drifted off into another world or another time. His face was stern and his eyes showed pain. Not physical pain, but pain that had been inside of him for many years. However, even after all he had been through, Danny wasn't quite ready to get rid of that pain. "Just some childhood memories."


A/N: So? What do you think? Do you like it? Do you hate it? Do you not care? Do you want more? What? What do you think?