Don't Give A Damn

Generally, Chandler didn’t believe in hurting or killing other living people until she figured she had no other options. It didn’t make sense for her dwindle down the already small population of survivors even more. So, with that in mind, the brunette called out, “I’m not gonna hurt you if you don’t hurt me. I was just looking for something to eat.” Though, not knowing how the stranger would respond, she kept a tight grip on her axe just in case. 

Danny’s shoulders fell slightly at the sound of a woman voice coming through the open door. He wasn’t sure whether he could believe her or not, and a small thought crept into his mind about just running and looking for his dad. Jesus, he wished that man was here. “Well..just get what you need and leave. Just uh...leave some thing though, okay?” 

Chandler and Eli were running desperately low on supplies, and it didn’t happen often, but sometimes, the two of them split up, hoping they might be able to find more, faster. There was a house near where the two of them were currently staying that the girl had been eyeing for a short while, noticing that there were people who seemed to be living inside. And while it was dangerous, the house seemed to be her best bet to finding things her and her friend could use. So, she waited until the was sure there was no one in the house before she snuck inside and began to look around for anything she could take, especially food. It wasn’t long into her rummaging when she heard someone come into the house. “Shit,” she muttered quietly to herself, quickly trying to find somewhere to hide. 

“Oh yeah?” Chandler spoke softly, raising a brow. She wanted to wake him up, and really ask him what he was dreaming about, but she knew that sleep didn’t come all that often to the dead, so she didn’t want to disturb him. “Maybe I’ll come back later,” she muttered to herself, watching Danny for a moment longer before leaning over and placing a gentle kiss on his head. She then started to make her way out of the room, trying not to wake him.

The kiss to his head was what had shattered the dream. Slowly blinking awake, Danny looked around his room. “Chandler..?” he croaked, sitting up in the bed and rubbing his eyes. He was slightly confused as to why she was in his room, but he was still happy to see her. “What’s going on?” 

Trying to hold back a laugh, Chandler went over to Danny and crouched down in front of his bed. “How am I lucky?” She asked in a quiet whisper, trying to see if she could see what, or who, he was dreaming about.

“So lucky...so lucky that I like you as much as I do,” Danny finished muttering in time with Chandler’s question. A small, dreamy smirk rested on his features as he continued his little dream. He wasn’t sure where this was leading but lately anything that started off with baking ended up a little more happening than he anticipated. 

Dead asleep, Danny let out a soft snore. He hadn’t slept much since his death, but when he did–he was like a bear in hibernation. The young ghost hadn’t done much of anything the past few weeks. He had even abandoned the calming effects of cooking. Barely flinching when the knock at the door sounded through the room along with a familiar voice, Danny rolled over–another snore escaping his lips.

Chandler waited for an answer, but instead she just heard the faint sound of snoring. She chuckled lightly to herself, standing outside the door for a moment as she decided whether to try back later, or go into his room. She didn’t want to wake him, but she figured she could at least leave the cookies for him when he woke up. So, the spirit ghosted into his room, reappearing right in the middle. Sure enough, Danny was sound asleep in his bed. Turning around, Chandler walked over to the dresser in the corner of his room and carefully placed the plate down onto it, before managing to find a scrap piece of paper and a pen to write a little note, letting him know who had left the cookies. 

While it had been mostly a dreamless sleep, Danny couldn't help little pictures of random things popping through his subconscious. Hugging his pillow closer, the ghost dreamt of cookies rising while cooking in the oven. "Raisins...too mushy...need more chocolate chips..," he mumbled, rolling over grumpily.

Dead asleep, Danny let out a soft snore. He hadn't slept much since his death, but when he did--he was like a bear in hibernation. The young ghost hadn't done much of anything the past few weeks. He had even abandoned the calming effects of cooking. Barely flinching when the knock at the door sounded through the room along with a familiar voice, Danny rolled over--another snore escaping his lips.

Danny’s laugh was humorless as he shrugged his shoulders. “I did,” he muttered before scooting over and picking up his computer. “I think it’s time to introduce you to Spaceballs. Probably the best parody ever made.”

“I didn’t,” Chandler muttered in reply, moving back onto the bed and sitting against the headboard. “Parody of what?” She asked, looking over at the boy.

Pulling up his Netflix account, Danny quickly searched for the movie. "Star Wars of course," he replied--laughing softly.