#//glances at other fandoms okay so apparently 'damaged dad tries to parent' is a THING i'm drawn to

[tiny-smallest]

nonfluent

Rating: T Characters: Gaster, Sans, Papyrus (barely, as he’s a wee infant) Warnings: mentions of child abuse (and nope not who you’re expecting either) Description: Good people don't always make good parents, even when they love their children. W. D. Gaster is no exception, though he does try. Oh, does he try.

Also on AO3!

I could have SWORN I uploaded this here but I suppose not? I can’t find it in my tags? So... enjoy this thing from roughly 2015-2016! Featuring scientist Dadster.

One more day.

He has to give it one more day.

Of endless numbers, of problems with solutions seemingly at his grasp, only to slip away at the last moment.

One more day of the endless hum of machines, of the blue paper of blueprints, and their white pencils, and terrible coffee.

He’s so tired, but he must give it one more day, at least, bare minimum, for he owes that much, especially to his own.

“daddy look i-”

“Not now, Sans.”

“but i can help, i can-” There’s a crash and he whirls around in his chair. The boy is on the floor, in a lab coat far too big for him (how did he even get it off the hook...?) surrounded by stacks of paper. Thank goodness he didn’t fall far or knock over anything important.

“Stop while you’re ahead. I brought you plenty of toys; please utilize them instead of destroying my workspace.”

Science is far too serious to allow for little bones running around willy-nilly trying to "help." A glance over his shoulder shows the child glaring at his “invention” of popsicle sticks and glue. Despite the fact that he is right, that such a devise is utterly useless to him, that he cannot allow Sans to simply run around the lab doing whatever he pleases...

There is a pang. He cannot keep doing this; the boy will be hurt. Surely there is something else he can do?

All problems (except the barrier) have a solution. Think. What is it that he can do here?

Wait. The lab coat. The invention. Sans wants to imitate him. Maybe there is something less dangerous he can imitate.

His eyes light on the tiny toy violin, a knickknack really, that a colleague had given him for his desk. A congratulations for a job well done at a piano recital long, long ago...

... Hm.

Music isn't going to save the world. Music isn’t going to get them past the barrier, if such a thing is possible. Music isn’t going to win the ensuing war. He should not be spending time on music, not when he has work to do, or sleep to catch a bit of.

But it's safe for little bones, so when he comes home that night, he finds their dusty old piano and spends a night fixing it.

Music is safe for little bones, and the act of cleaning it reminded him of the beauty of the instrument, and so every night, he can put aside hands shaking with fatigue and a mind berating him for slacking in order to pick his son up, and set him on his lap, and teach him a simple song.

The first song he teaches him is You Are My Sunshine. Sans listens, enthralled.

"Music is the language of emotion," he tells his small son as his long fingers guide his hands to the keys. Such tiny, delicate hands.

"And as with all emotion, sometimes it is the truth, and sometimes it's a lie. But this song, from me, will never be a lie."

He nods as if he understands, but he is so tiny. He cannot possibly understand.

That is fine. He will in time, and they’ve nothing but that.

Music cannot save the world, but that is okay too, he supposes. They can sing as tiny hands find their way to the proper keys, and he can smile at the small voice rising in harmony with his own.

Sans does not seem to have any interest in learning anything but that one song. But as long as his son is happy, and they can enjoy replaying this one every evening, everything is fine.

Someday little bones won’t be so little anymore, and he will teach him the proper way around a lab, but for now, this is how they’ll connect, and...

He is finding that chasing that endless answer is easier, that one more day is easier, if there is this to look forward to. Who knew such preciousness existed in this world? It was as if he had known on some level, protecting it, but was seeing it through a fogged window, never engaging with it.

Now that window is clear. And, as the days pass, he realizes that so is his conscious, too.

He is so bad at emotion when it comes to the language of normal speech.

"Wear your coat."

He never planned on having a child.

"Your vegetables are good for you."

He never planned on surviving to adulthood, truthfully.

"No, growing boys need sleep."

His parents had sucked the life from him, a drop a day, until the idea of spending decades in his own bones felt unbearable.

"Fine, one more story."

Open affection frightens him. He cannot stand touch.

"All right. One more song."

Even the words ‘I love you’ feel too much.

"You're grounded. No, I don't want to hear it; what you did was wrong."

As if the words themselves would peel away too much of his Soul, and reveal the shriveled underside.

"Here, I made you tuna fish today. And I included a ring pop. Please don't propose to the teacher again as a joke; I'll die of shame."

He cannot bear to do that.

"Your report card is wonderful. You did well. I see you excel in science."

But he finds other ways to tell him those three little words.

“That was beautifully played.”

He hopes it is enough.

It happened again it happened AGAIN.

One child was hard enough; now he has two!?

How could this experiment go so wrong!? As desperately as he runs the calculations, he can’t find an answer. Does the universe enjoy seeing him suffer? It’s the only reason it would give a man like him not one, but two gifts he does not deserve and can’t properly care for!

He struggles to breathe as the walls feel they close in on him. Smuggling the infant home proved to be an ungodly difficult challenge, not because the baby made noise, but because the trembling of his limbs would not cease. At least he managed it by some miracle, but his knees protest moving so much as another step once his front door closes behind him.

He looks so much like him.

That face shape must be so similar to what his own parents saw when-

No, no, he needs- he needs control again he needs to calm down he-

“daddy?”

He raises his head, staring, as Sans pads down the stairs in bunny slippers and a t-shirt with a pun on it. He hands the child to him quickly, struggling for breath.

“Take him to your room. He can share the bed with you.”

Sans doesn’t argue. Frightened eyes stare up at his father, then to the baby, and then he disappears upstairs and leaves Gaster to his shuddering breaths in front of the door.

Over the next few weeks, he prepares a room for the infant. A cradle, toys, infant safety measures. But the rest, and indeed, as much as possible, he leaves to Sans.

When the infant cries, Sans is there. When the infant is hungry, Sans, clever child, easily figures out how to feed him. Gaster supplies everything that’s needed, including a babysitter on school days, and Sans does the rest. He avoids both children... easy enough, with his workload.

The window isn’t foggy, but now, it is closed. Panic walls him in.

And, selfishly, he does nothing to stop it.

“why don’t you ever tell me you love me?”

Why are you in an unauthorized area in the middle of the school day asking such a deeply personal question?

But the words, thankfully, don’t leave his mouth. He is too busy staring at his son in a dumb stupor.

“where did i come from?”

“Why does any of that matter?” Oh, no; the wrong response. He knows as it falls from his mouth, but there’s no taking it back.

“because the kids at school say you’re a mad scientist and you made us. but if you made us you’d love us, right?”

Within seconds he tries to figure how schoolchildren could know his sons are the results of illegal experimentation, but for once, logic decides to remind the rest of him that paranoia has the wheel at the moment.

“but you never say you love us and you won’t stay with us.”

“I have a lot of work. And you, young man, have school.”

“it’s recess.”

“That doesn’t mean you can waltz off school grounds!”

“why not? you get to mix up kids in your stupid lab!”

This is not at all where he wants this going. He rubs his temples.

“Sans-”

“you don’t even listen to me play anymore! you missed my science fair! and i spend all my time with papyrus but you don’t take more than five minutes every day to check with us!”

“I said, I’m very busy.” The excuse is hollow. Sans is turning blue with fury and his eye is

glowing?

“that never mattered before! why does it matter now!?”

“I-”

“you didn’t want us, did you!? either of us! you don’t love us, so why did you make us!?”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“you didn’t mean to.” He had not meant it in the context Sans was taking it as. He had meant ‘I did not mean to be so awful, to make you wonder these things.’

But Sans... clever child... is beginning to realize another possibility to explain their existence.

“... we were an accident. that’s all we are to you. accidents.” He eyes his father with a look that chills him to his core, and as Sans turns and begins to stomp away, he finds his feet moving, an arm reaching for his son’s shoulder, no, wait, don’t go; he’s sor-

“get OFF OF ME!” Sans’s low voice rises to a shriek, and he whips around, eye surging with magic—why oh why had he given his son those abilities-

He grabs his Soul, he feels the PING more than he hears it, and the feeling of the metal floor beneath his feet being stolen away is frightening enough until he realizes his son still doesn’t know how to properly use that blue magic of his, does not know how easily the grip slips or the right amount of force to apply or-

And then suddenly, air whistles around him, and his son grows smaller and smaller as he falls, until the child is only a dot, and before the blinding agony overtakes him, he realizes that there will never be one more day; he will never get to give Papyrus those piano lessons or even teach Sans a new song, if he’d ever wanted to learn one, and now the window will close.

Forever.

[blitzturtles]

Title: Guilt

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Crusaders (set after Golden Wind, given Jolyne's age.)

Pairing(s): JotaKak, JoKa, (Platonic) Jotaro & Jolyne, (Platonic) Kakyoin & Jolyne

Summary: Kakyoin is in the middle of answering one of Jolyne's many questions when he feels something twist violently inside his abdomen. He tastes what he thinks might be bile at rist, but the metallic tinge registers, and,

Oh god, no. Not here. Please not here.

Notes: Involves emergency surgery, chronic pain, preteen!Jolyne, PTSD, disabled Kakyoin, and near death experiences.

-

Here's the thing: Jolyne hates him. It's not a secret, and it's definitely not something that she bothers to hide from him. Jotaro keeps swearing that she'll come around. Says she's just stubborn (like her father is, Kakyoin sometimes thinks with far too much affection for a man that regularly drives him up the wall). There's also the fact that she's a preteen, and kids are apparently just like that at her age.

Here's the thing: Kakyoin would hate him, too. If he were in her situation. He's petty on a good day, and a right bastard on any other. He can't imagine being in her situation. With divorced parents who, while amicable, are both ridiculously successful and constantly busy. And then waltzed in Kakyoin, right in the middle of it. Though 'waltz' is a bit of a stretch. He doesn't do anything like that with his plated spine and braced legs, but none of that matters. The real point is that he gets it.

He does his best to never push more than he has to. For the most part, he lets Jolyne do her own thing, because she's a Kujo and a Joestar. She's going to do what she wants anyways. His opinion be damned, though he does try to reason with her. Hell, he's given into bribing every once in a while. (Sometimes the means don't matter when father and daughter are both happy at the end of the day.)

In short: Jolyne hates him, and Kakyoin understands.

______

Here's the thing: Jolyne finds Kakyoin to be a nuisance. An interference. One more complication to an already complicated life, and she's only eleven. She wants her parents to get over their bullshit (language!) and figure out how to make things work. She wants Kakyoin to go away, but that doesn't mean she wants him dead. Or injured. Even if she did wish him off the end of a pier that one time. Still.

They've admittedly grown to be more friendly over time. She talks to him now, which is an improvement to the chronic cold shoulder she gave him before. Sometimes she even asks him for help, because her dad can be surprisingly useless when it comes to school work (weren't you in school when I was little?) He always seems happy to help, and he never gets as frustrated as her dad.

So maybe she doesn't hate him, but she definitely wants him to go away.

______

Kakyoin is in the middle of answering one of Jolyne's many questions when he feels something twist violently inside his abdomen. He tastes what he thinks might be bile at rist, but the metallic tinge registers, and,

Oh god, no. Not here. Please not here.

He doesn't need to know-- specifically-- what went wrong to know that he's dying. The moment the pain goes from barely tolerable to utterly agonizing is about when his brain lets him know that he's operating on borrowed time.

Kakyoin could have used that warning approximately five minutes ago. Before the pain. Before he found himself in front of Jolyne.

"I'm sorry," he tries to say, hopes the words come out audible enough for her to understand.

There are tears welling up in her eyes, and they fall soon enough. God, he's made Jolyne cry. She's so young. So unprepared. And she looks so much like Jotaro. With panic stricken eyes and fingers that grasp for something to do. Some way to fix this. It makes his chest ache beyond the twisting and shearing that his insides are already doing.

(She looks exactly like Jotaro, in the hospital after the Foundation managed to retrieve them. The way her hands fumble in the air is so much like how Jotaro had reached out desperately, trying to hold onto Kakyoin, in case those had been his last moments. Like father, like daughter, Kakyoin thinks without humor.)

His knees hit the ground first, and that shoots pain up his legs and along his hips. The rest of it ricochets and dies somewhere midway up his spine. It's a momentary distraction away from the agony that is his middle. He reaches with his fingers to press against his stomach, half expecting them to sink inward (into nothingness. There's nothing. Dio punched a hole right through him, and he's going to die.)

Jolyne is yelling. His name at first, then for her father. Again, he's reminded of the day he died. Maybe it's all been a dream. He's waking up now and the end is pressing down on him. The light will follow soon. He knows; he's seen it before.

"Please!" Jolyne begs him, "I'm sorry!"

He is, too. It's the last thing he thinks before his eyes slide shut and the darkness grabs at him greedily.

______

There's shouting and bright lights and something covering his face. He can't make out anything with his vision so blurry, but he thinks he hears Jotaro's angry voice booming what could be an entire room away.

"If you fucking put a finger on him that isn't necessary to keep him alive. I'll fuck-"

"Dad!"

Jotaro inhales sharply but nods to the surgeon one, final time, "His team is on their way. Not a goddamn finger."

______

The Speedwagon Foundation has several doctors that Kakyoin sees on a semi-regular basis. Each is a specialist in their own right, and they're the only reason Kakyoin ever made it home from Egypt. They're also the only ones that regularly work on updating all the augmented parts and maintaining the damaged remains of Kakyoin's organs. They know him inside and out. Quite literally.

The team makes it to the hospital long before Kakyoin comes out of emergency surgery, which means the whole process is extended significantly. The upside (if it could be called that) is that Kakyoin doesn't have to be put under again. The downside is that it means they'll be waiting awhile.

Jotaro does his best to be strong for Jolyne. It's his job as a parent to keep a calm façade and push his emotions to the side. She needs someone to be her reassurance.

He fails miserably.

______

The head of the Foundation team emerges some hours later, looking a little worse for wear. The stoicism past that does little for Jotaro's nerves. It tells him nothing of what to expect.

"Well?"

"He's stable," the doctor answers. "We had to take out several inches of colon this time. If I had to guess, he probably believed himself to be having a flare. He adjusted to the pain until he became necrotic." His expression shifts into an unpleased frown, "He also has two ulcers. Has he changed his diet? Or experienced any new stressors?"

Jolyne's lip quivered as she processed the doctor's words. She thought over every time she and Kakyoin had fought in recent history. Most of it being her yelling at him.

Jotaro's focus remains fixated on the doctor, "What the hell kind of pain is he still having?"

The doctor-- one Jotaro recognizes from previous visits but can't recall the name of-- sighs, "Kakyoin will only allow us to do so much to help manage his pain. I'm not his specialist in that regard, but it's at his request that he's kept on very little in terms of medication."

Jotaro knows that. He knows that Kakyoin doesn't like what stronger pain meds do to his head, but how out of control is his pain that he didn't notice that he was dying? That his body has been rotting from the inside out for an unknown amount of time?

Jolyne shifts further behind him, drawing his attention to her. It's the only thing that spares the doctor whatever response Jotaro might have otherwise formed. He turns to look at Jolyne and is startled by the tears already trailing down her round cheeks. Realization hits him then.

She's eleven, and he's an idiot.

"Hey, hey. Enough with that. He's going to be okay," Jotaro says quickly. He should have- called her mother or his mother or literally anyone. This isn't a conversation she needed to be privy to.

"It's me," Jolyne chokes the words out. Her thin arms wrap tight around her middle, and she looks close to collapsing on the ground.

Jotaro, admittedly, has no idea what she's talking about, "What's you?"

"The stress!" She practically wails.

Jotaro sighs and moves to wrap his arms around Jolyne. He tugs her in against his chest. "That- that's not the kind of stress the doctor is talking about," he glances over his shoulder to see that the man had already dismissed himself. Smart guy.

"I'm always mean to him!"

Jotaro wants to laugh. Not at all because he thinks her words-- or her suffering-- are funny, but because the whole situation feels unreal. He cards his fingers through her hair instead. It's all the comfort he feels like he can offer in a situation like this. With his own resolve teetering on the edge.

"Takes a lot more than that to take out Noriaki," he's lying through his teeth. The whole new family thing might damn well be enough stress, but he's never going to let Jolyne think this is her fault. It's not. Kakyoin is capable of making his own decisions, and being part of their family is one of them.

Jolyne crumbles against him despite the gentle words, so he scoops her up and holds her against his chest. Even at eleven, she's nothing compared to his size. He finds a nearby seat to settle into and lets her cry while he whispers promises he can't be sure he'll be able to keep. Eventually he tries distracting her with facts about dolphins, and that either has some effect, or she passes out from exhaustion. Either way, he's relieved when she snores against his neck.

______

Kakyoin comes to the waking world in a haze. His head aches and his middle feels a lot like it might have been ripped open again. He hopes that whatever happened had been a little more civil than that.

It doesn't take him long to place himself in the hospital. That's good. He isn't dead, and he's not immediately at risk of falling into enemy hands. The beeping to his left is annoying, and he can't see well enough to make anything out on the monitors around him. His vision tends to be the last thing to recover when he's been knocked out for a while. Still, he turns his head to continue to take in what he can make out.

He stops short when he sees two people in chairs on his right side, closer to the door. The familiar hat catches his attention immediately, not that he needs to be able to see at one hundred percent (or his version of it) to know that the man is none other than Jotaro. His size will always give him away before anything else.

Jotaro's head is bowed in a way that indicates he's likely asleep. He's undoubtedly been here awhile. Jolyne sits beside him with her head pressed against her father's bicep. Star Platinum is out and wrapped around both of them. He lifts his hand from Jotaro a moment to wave at him brightly, which is enough to disturb his user's sleep.

"Mm?" Jotaro grunts. He opens his eyes and sucks in a breath. He takes a moment to compose himself, which is fine. Kakyoin thinks he probably looks worse than he feels, thanks to the drugs. He would make a joke about it, but moving still hurts.

"Good to see you awake. How're you feeling?" Jotaro asks. He doesn't move from his spot, if only to avoid waking up Jolyne, but that intense gaze is evaluating all the same.

Kakyoin gives a noncommittal answer, and Jotaro snorts, "That's what I thought you'd say. Good thing we have this." He reaches for the little controller on the side of Kakyoin's bed. He presses the red button before Kakyoin can protest.

The glare he shoots Jotaro is relatively short-lived, and it's hard to be mad when Jotaro looks so damn triumphant, even if it's about something that Kakyoin has complicated feelings about. He decides to let him have this one, considering the fact that he's pretty sure he gave them all one nightmarish scare.

"I'm sorry," he says after a while, head lulling back against the pillows. His red hair spreads out all around. It's longer now than it ever has been, but he hasn't felt the need to cut it beyond a simple trim in years. It doesn't matter, but it gives himself something to focus on rather than the gnawing guilt.

"Don't be."

"I- god, I never meant-"

"Kakyoin."

"If I had known, I would have left the room or-"

"Kak-"

"She was so afraid. And she-"

"Noriaki," Jotaro snaps more than says the name, but his eyes are soft. "You aren't the only one that made her cry in the last few hours, so you're not special." That's not true. Kakyoin is incredibly special, but he needs to make some kind of light-hearted comment before he starts crying. Nobody needs to see that.

"Still," Kakyoin mumbles, but he doesn't continue.

Jotaro reaches out with Star, who clasps his large hand over one of Kakyoin's. He wants to lean forward himself, but he doesn't want to wake Jolyne up. Not yet.

Kakyoin turns his palm up to tangle his fingers together with Star's. He brushes his thumb over the stand's, knowing Jotaro can feel it reflected on his skin.

"I really thought it was a flare," he says after a while, because he feels like he owes some sort of explanation after everything.

"Nori, I really can't tell you how much I don't give a damn about that," Jotaro frowns at his own words, "No, I mean- I care, but- fuck." He scrubs his hand over his face a few times before trying again, "You don't have to feel guilty for this shit, okay? I should have noticed you were in pain."

Kakyoin shakes his head. He squeezes Star's hand to make sure Jotaro's listening when he speaks, "It's not your fault. I deal with this pain all the time. It just- at first it felt like a flare, but I guess I got used to it." And every time the pain worsened, he acclimated until it had nearly killed him.

Jotaro doesn’t get a chance to respond before Jolyne is rustling against him. She opens her eyes a crack and reaches up to wipe at them with her fists. “Dad?”

“Right here,” Jotaro grunts in response. He squeezes her shoulder gently, then retracts his arm to give her space to stretch out. “Kakyoin is awake.”

He watches the fog clear from her eyes. They widen as she processes his words, and her attention immediately turns to the redhead, who waves meekly at her.

“Jolyne, I’m- oof!”

Star quickly gets his hands around Jolyne’s waist, suspending her in the air enough to keep her weight from falling too heavily onto Kakyoin. He lets her down carefully, and the youngest Kujo looks sheepish for her overreaction.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright,” Kakyoin says, curling an arm around her loosely in return. He hadn’t expected to be nearly tackled upon awakening. That went doubly so when considering Jolyne as a factor. She’s never hugged him before. Trauma is funny in that way; something he knows from first hand experience.

Jotaro steps up behind her and offers a small smile to Kakyoin, “We’re glad you’re alright.”

“Yeah!” Jolyne echoes, “You scared the shit out of us!”

“Jolyne,” Jotaro’s voice is gruff. An attempt at a warning that falls short. The way his lips pull further upward is a dead giveaway that he isn’t particularly upset by her language usage.

“It’s true!”

“Good grief.”

Kakyoin snorts at the father-daughter duo, relieved to see the two smiling again. Already bickering as per usual. There’s too much snark trapped in the Joestar bloodline, and it always amplifies whenever there’s more than one of them in a room. He’d know, having been on the road with Joseph and Jotaro in the past.

Somehow the back and forth settles into Jolyne rambling about dolphins. She regurgitates facts that-- for the most part-- Kakyoin already knows, but he feigns shock and awe at all the right places to keep her spirit up. It’s more healing to watch her babble emphatically than it is lying around in a hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. It eases some of the guilt, makes him feel lighter.

Eventually, Jotaro whiskers her out the door. Kakyoin catches sight of Holly, which must mean that Marina is tied up. Holly doesn’t come in, likely at her son’s behest. The woman is a mother through and through, and she can be a bit overwhelming at times. Better to focus all that maternal energy on Jolyne for now.

“You look tired,” Jotaro says when the door clicks shut behind the two. He takes his spot back next to Kakyoin’s bed, pulling his chair as close as he can. His knees grind against the railing of the bed a bit, but the distance allows him to lean forward and get a good look at his partner.

“I could say the same about you,” Kakyoin points out with a raised brow. He still can’t pick up his head for more than a few seconds at a time, and his vision remains fuzzy around the edges; a likely side effect of being drugged to the gills, but he isn’t blind. He can see the bags collecting under Jotaro’s eyes. Exhaustion-- emotional as much as it is physical-- already weighing his shoulders down.

Jotaro snorts an unamused sound, “I’m not the one that just had emergency surgery.”

Kakyoin winces at the reminder. “I’m-”

“If you finish that statement, I’m going to give you a reason to be sorry,” he isn’t. Jotaro won’t hurt him, but the words make Kakyoin close his mouth anyways. For a second.

“Oh, and how are you going to do that?”

Jotaro stares him down for a solid thirty seconds, expecting him to back down. When he doesn’t, the man pushes himself to his feet with an exasperated sigh. “Good grief, c’mere,” his fingers hook under Kakyoin’s chin, and he leans down to press their lips together.

As far as life affirming kisses go, it’s one of Jotaro’s more gentle ones, but Kakyoin feels the thrill of it chasing down his spine anyways.

“I love you,” Kakyoin murmurs as they break apart. He wants to add an apology to the end, but he bites his lip and keeps it to himself for now. He’ll find a way to make it up to Jotaro and Jolyne later.

“Love you, too, Tenmei.”

[procrastinatorimagines]

I Only Have Eyes For You

Fandom: Chicago Med / One Chicago

Character/s: Connor Rhodes x Reader,

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 3,162

Request:  Hi there, can I get an imagine for reader x Connor Rhodes. Lightly based upon 01x03 Fallback where Connor treats on one of his father's employees and his father tried to take him off the case. So like the reader and Connor are married (got married during their residency) and the father flirts with reader who also works at med not knowing that's his son's wife as he didn't think someone like Connor could snag a girl like the reader. The ending is up to you. Thank you x

“Maybe you should talk to him,” you suggested, putting your hand on your husband, Connor’s, shoulder as he stared distantly into his locker, his mind clearly elsewhere. 

“I don’t want to talk to him Y/N, I’ve barely spoken to him in years,” Connor sighed, slamming his locker closed and turning to face you. He hadn’t expect to see his dad today, heading into Med behind an ambulance basically demanding to speak to Miss Goodwin and his son at once. Connor had been in surgery at the start of shift so he hadn’t actually come face to face with the man yet, but it was only a matter of time.

“Well now might be your chance, he is in the ED afterall,” you reminded him and he rubbed his face with his hands. It had been a long surgery, starting off the last shift of a very long week, and you knew the last thing your husband wanted was to talk to his father, but maybe he needed to.

“He’s downstairs because one of his employees got hurt on the job and he’s trying to do damage control before a lawsuit is filed, he isn’t here to see me,” Connor all but snapped, his face softening when he realised and squeezing your hand apologetically. There had been some kind of mishap at one of his stores from what you could gather, and one of Cornelius’ workers had found himself practically crushed under a bit of the structure that wasn’t as up to code as it should be.

“I get that, really Connor I do, I’m just saying that while he’s here, maybe you should talk to him, even if it’s just to say your piece,” you tried, knowing that Connor still had a lot of baggage surrounding his father, baggage that had been putting a bit of a strain on your marriage, or more specifically, any discussion of having children. Getting things off of his chest might be the only way for him to move forward, you reasoned.

“I have nothing to say to him, Y/N, he’s the parent, not me, it shouldn’t be on me to be the bigger person,” Connor replied, and he was right, but damn if the Rhodes men weren’t the most stubborn men you’d ever met.

“But you are the bigger person, the better person-” you began, knowing that Connor was ten times the man his father was, and maybe it was about time Cornelius Rhodes saw that for himself, but you were starting to realise that you were crossing a line as Connor interrupted you.

“Y/N, the last time I tried to reach out to my father he decided he’d rather go on a business trip than attend his own son’s wedding,” he said, the bitter undertones very clear as you remembered how crushed he’d been. No matter how bad their relationship was, and even if he wouldn’t admit it, you knew Connor still loved his father, and for him to not show up to his own wedding had broken his heart. “Baby he’s never even met you, and that’s that on him, he’s made his priorities perfecrly clear.” he continued, cupping your face in his hands.

“Okay, okay,” you nodded, realising you weren’t getting anywhere with this conversation, “do you want me to drop it?” It was what you always asked each other when it seemed like you were going to have an argument, or whether you weren’t sure if you’d crossed a line in a conversation, you tried to respect each others boundaries as much as possible. 

“Please, I know you’re trying to help but my relationship with my father is basically unsalvageable, and I’m moving forward,” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes, he was trying hard to make you believe him but you both knew you really didn’t, this wasn’t the kind of thing you just moved forward from.

“If you’re sure, he won’t be around forever,” you gave it one last try before letting it go for now, telling yourself you’d broach the subject again at a later date.

“I know, and I am,” he said, giving you a quick kiss before pulling away and grabbing his stethescope off of the table next to you, “thank you, though,” he added.

“For what?” You asked finally closing your own locker.

“For being so very you,” he smiled, a genuine smile this time as he looked back to you, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you replied, kissing his again as your phone vibrated in your pocket. Stepping back you fished it out, seeing a text from Will. “Oh that’s me, Will wants me in three to help with Mr Harris,” you explained to Connor as you both headed out the door towards the ED.

“My father’s guy?” Connor realised, opening the door for you and letting you out first as you checked over the message; apparently Cornelius was demanding a second opinion, clearly not satisfied by Will’s, but you decided not to tell Connor that right now.

“Yeah that’s the one,” you nodded, slipping the phone back into your pocket before he could see the rest of the text as you noticed Maggie signalling for you to hurry it along, that couldn’t be good.

“Good luck, you’re gonna need it,” Connor noted Maggie’s impatient gestures as you picked up the pace.

“You’re all the luck I need,” you joked, winking at him as you parted ways, Dr Latham needed him upstairs in 5 for a consult, a fact which he was more than happy with since he was supposed to be working the ED all day.

“Ooh cheesy, go on get out of here,” Connor laughed as you waved your goodbyes, heading to three. 

Maggie met you half way and handed you Mr Harris’ chart, looking irritated.

“Everything okay?” You asked, noting the angry voices you could now hear coming from the room to your right, the curtains not providing much in the way of sound proofing, not that you thought Cornelius cared much.

“How Connor turned out the way he did with a father like that is beyond me,” Maggie told you quietly as you quickly flipped through the chart, “he’s been demanding this, that and the other since he got here, and now he thinks Dr Halstead’s not telling Mr Harris all his option because he just wants to ‘extort him for more money’,” she mimicked in a hushed tone as you rolled you eyes, it’s not like he couldn’t afford it anyway, you thought, but there was something about having more money that made some people think they were so damn entitled...

Putting on your best cordial smile you pulled back the curtain and entered, the men stopping in their heated conversation as you did, frozen on some discussion about cost. Will did his best to hide his relieved look when he saw you and Cornelius grumbled in frustration, completely unaware he was standing face to face with his daughter-in-law for the first time.

“Everything okay in here?” You asked, looking between the two men on their feet and the tired, slightly embarrassed, looking man in the hospital bed. 

“Terrific sweetheart,” Cornelius retorted sarcastically and you internally rolled your eyes. Externally, you kept your features schooled and looked to the patient in the bed.

“Hi Mr Harris, my name is Doctor Y/L/N,” you told him, having kept your last name when you’d married Connor, a fact you were pretty glad about right now. You offered your hand and he shook it gratefully.

“Pleasure,” he said as you stepped back, facing Cornelius Rhodes as he rubbed his temple before looking to you, taking you in for the first time as he straightened his posture and cleared his throat.

“Cornelius Rhodes, it’s lovely to meet you,” he offered his hand and you shook it, the way he was looking at you making your skin crawl a little as he finally let go. “I was just discussing with your collegue over here the best treatment for my man here, and we seem to be having a disagreement,” the way his demeanor had changed in your presence was alarming, and Will was clearly taken aback by it too, he’d gone from demanding to charming in the blink of an eye.

“I see, well from reading Mr Harris’ chart it’s clear that there are only two option available, the impact seems to have done some internal damage that, while it might heal on its own over time, will most likely require surgery,” you explained in your perfected doctor voice as Will threw you a grateful glance. Cornelius clenched his jaw as he tried to maintain his own facade, pretending to mull over your words even though you knew Will would have said basically the same thing, and that Cornelius had already made up his mind. 

“Surgery really is the best option Mr Harris,” Will told the patient, but instead of replying he looked back to Cornelius, the man who would be paying for either option no doubt. The surgery would be expensive, you knew that, and it grated you to know that the fate of this man’s life possibly rested on the greed of Cornelius Rhodes. Could Connor talk some sense into him? You mused to yourself as he began to answer.

“I understand your concern,” he said finally, addressing you alone, a far cry from the accusations of greed he’d thrown at Will before you arrived, “but that kind of surgery is not only expensive, but the recovery time would put him out of work, and he wouldn’t want that.” You hid your grimace as Mr Harris nodded, clearly feeling like he had to agree.

“I have deadlines coming up,” he spoke up as Cornelius gestured to him as if to say, see, there you have it, settled, as you did your best to maintain your friendly face. 

“I understand where you’re coming from Mr Rhodes,” you lied, regreting ever trying to get Connor to patch things up with this vile, self-serving man. He didn’t deserve Connor for a son. “But if we leave it and it gets worse, the surgery will be much more invasive and expensive further down the line, not to mention the high risk and potential complications,” Mr Harris paled a little, but still waited for Cornelius to answer. 

Seriously? He could sue this man and yet he was still scared of him, the man probably had no means of paying for the court bills that would require anyway, he needed Cornelius’ paychecks to keep a roof over his head. And he was making decisions about his life like he was a god damn asset and not a person.

“Well, that would be unfortunate,” Cornelius pondered and Will looked like he was close to losing it. It was no secret he prioritised his patients over all else, even their own wishes sometimes, and it was also no secret he’d never liked Cornelius Rhodes. 

“Mr Rhodes-” Mr Harris voiced up but he was shushed, the other man still thinking. You didn’t know whether you or Will were closer to punching the man, Mr Harris clearly wanting to have the surgery now in fear of more severe future complications. If Cornelius wasn’t such an arrogant-

“Alright, if you thinking it will save money in the future- and more important of course Joseph’s well-being, then I suppose we could do the surgery,” he decided and Mr Harris sighed in relief. Cornelius smiled smugly, like he’d done something so generous, it made you sick to your stomach. 

You consciously twisted the wedding ring on your finger as Will fetched the paperwork and soon Mr Harris was being wheeled off to wait for his surgery in a room upstairs, clearing the bay in the ED for the next patient. Will was more than happy to take the next person through the doors as you finalised the paperwork with Maggie, scheduling in his surgery in the system. 

Connor texted you then as Cornelius was practically stalking towards you at the desks. He was letting you know that he was finished with Dr Latham and had thought about what you’d said, and maybe it was a good idea to talk to his father before he left. He’d be coming down any minute, but before you could reply Cornelius had reached you at the desks, a predatory look in his eyes that set off your fight or flight response. 

“Dr Y/LN,” he grinned and you returned a polite and professional smile as he invaded your personal space, looking you up and down in a way that was so not okay, even if you weren’t his son’s wife. “Thank you for your help in there, your input was very... refreshing.”

“Of course, I was just doing my job, I’m glad Mr Harris is able to get the treatment he needs,” you replied tightly, realising that this conversation was far from over as he continued talking.

“It was the least I could you,” he said,  seeming to take your statement as some kind of thanks or compliment to his ‘generosity’. “Say, how about you and me grab a coffee in the cafeteria so you can explain more about how this procedure works, on me of course. If you’re busy now, maybe after you finish work?” As he finished talking he inched closer to you, eyeing you suggestively. 

Was he making a pass at you? Was this actually happening right now? You blinked in shock and it took you a second for your brain to process what was happening before you could answer him.

“Mr Rhodes, I’m flattered” you began and he grinned, like he already had it figured out that you were going to say yes even though you were far from actually flattered, “and while I would be happy to discuss your employee’s treatment with you in a professional manner, I’m... I’m married,” you explained, flashing your ring at him, the ring that his son had put on your finger.

“Well I don’t see him around anywhere,” Cornelius winked at you and you took an instinctive step back, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care, probably the latter if you were honest. “He’d never know.”

“Oh I’m certain he would,” a voice said from behind you and you turned to see Connor heading towards you both, anger clear on his face as he looked from you to his father. 

“And why’s that?” Cornelius asked defiantly, practically looking down his nose at his son, clearly not getting the hint from what he had said about who your husband was.

“Because I am her husband,” Connor said definitely, standing next to your side as you relaxed, feeling instantly better in his presence. Cornelius balked a little, he really had had no idea who you were this entire time.  It took him a second to regain his composure but when he did, instead of opting for the apology you’d expect from any normal person, he did the exact opposite, actually defending his slimy actions.

“How was I supposed to know that?” He huffed like he wasn’t invited to your wedding, when he’d made the decision to not come of his own accord. Connor put a protective hand on the small of your back, aware you were drawing a bit of attention as April had paused her typing on the computer.

“Well, dad, maybe if you’d come to our wedding, or our anniversary, or any of my birthdays, you would have known that Y/N’s been my wife for the past three and a half years,” Connor’s voice wasn’t raised but you could tell he was getting more and more aggitated by this encounter. He wouldn’t have liked anyone making a move on his wife, let alone his own father.

Cornelius had the nerve to chuckle at that, “honestly I’m just surprised a boy like you could wrangle a woman like this,” he said as you clenched your jaw, so many parts of that sentence rubbing you the wrong was. You could tell Connor felt the same, his stance very defensive as you replied.

"What is that supposed to mean?” You demanded before Connor could speak, Cornelius’ eyes snapping to you like he’d forgotten you were an actual person and not just an object to fight over. “What about me and Connor is so surprising to you?”

“Honestly, you could do better.” he said matter-of-factly and you rolled your eyes, any appearance of a professional facade gone as you faced your father-in-law.

Now it was Connor’s turn to laugh, but it was a dry laugh as he said: “and what, you think your ‘better’?” Cornelius shrugged, the look on his face telling you that that was in fact what he meant. Connor shook his head in disbelief, the first time he was seeing his father in a long time and all of his reservations and fears were being entirely justified as he stood before the two of you.

It was time to end this, you decided, folding your arms and squaring up to Cornelius. “Better? The man who’d rather save money than a man’s life, who thinks it’s appropriate to not only hit on a woman while she’s at work, but to blatantly tell her to... cheat on her husband when she tries to politely tell you she’s not interested. Connor’s a good man, a much much better man than you, inspite of the fact that your raised him, and he doesn’t owe you another second of his time, neither of us do.” You took a breath as both Rhodes men blinked at you in shock. “Now, Mr Rhodes if you’ll excuse us we actually have jobs to be doing, I’d be happy to have somebody escort you to where you can wait,” you finished, seeing April grin out the corner of you eye as Cornelius got a little flustered, clearly not used to anyone, especially women you reckoned, putting him in his place. 

“I’m had enough of trying to reach out to you, I felt like I still had something to prove to you, like it was on me to mend what was broken between us. But you’re not worth it dad, you’re just not worth it. We’re done here, stay away from me, and definitely stay away from my wife,” Connor told his father, gesturing with his head for security to come show him to the waiting room. 

“Oh this is far from over,” Cornelius raised his voice, pointing his finger at his son as security reached you. But Connor didn’t waiver, clear for the first time as he just looked at his father, shaking his head before turning to walk away. Everything that needed to be said had been said, and he was finally ready to walk away from his father, quite literally in this case as you went to follow your husband.

This wound would never go away entirely, but now, maybe, you really could move forward. 

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Verboten 16 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary: AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things

Parings: Danny/Sam

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances

Chapter 16

As Danny waited outside with the rest of the guests, his parents and Vlad met up with him. After they handed him a bag filled with one of his favorite Nasty Burger meals, he gave them a quick rundown of what he knew, save for the appearance of the ghost. While frustrated, his parents shuffled him into the RV so he could eat and warm up a bit. It was a chilly fall day after all.

As he ate, Danny vaguely wondered how his parents managed to convince Vlad, the man with the limo, to go across town with them. His dad’s driving prowess… well, lack thereof… was famous in the area. The townsfolk and even the police steered clear of any known Fenton vehicle. In actuality, he had no idea how his dad hadn’t lost his license.

After a couple hours, the fire department cleared the building with the exception that rooms on the second floor could not be used until the police preformed an investigation to verify whether or not arson occurred. The rooms on that floor would also need cleaned. Thankfully, little damage ended up being done from the fire: a few pieces of furniture and some scorch marks. The majority of the damage ended up being from the hotel’s sprinkler system.

After collecting their items, his parents drove to a large house on the outskirts of the housing plan where Sam lived. After asking what they were doing there, Vlad matter-of-factly stated he just finalized the payment on it. Danny’s utter confusion had to be evident as his parents explained Vlad recently decided to purchase a house in Amity Park since he would be around more to help with the research.

Well, it explained why it took his parents so long to get food. While the act itself didn’t seem that strange for Vlad, he did own a castle in Wisconsin after all, something about the timing bothered him. With the rare exception of a day when there was a major experiment malfunction, Vlad tended to stay with the family upon his visits. Exactly how long would he be in town if he needed to buy a new house?

After getting a quick tour of the house, Danny retired to his temporary room and called his friends. The three way call ended up being hectic as he explained what happened. “Guys, I’m telling you, I saw a ghost, and then somehow the hotel caught fire.”

“Calm down, Danny,” Sam instructed. “I know you’re telling the truth, but geez, how in the world did you end up being the center of so much trouble in two days?”

“My mom said something about me possibly attracting paranormal things now.”

“Makes sense, in a weird sort of way,” Tucker agreed as typing could be heard on his end. “I’ll see if I can dig up any stories of ghosts like what you saw this time.”

“Don’t worry about it, Tucker. You’re already looking into those files.”

“Nah, this’ll be easy. It’ll only take a couple minutes at most to set up a search and have it run in the background while we talk. Any specific things that stood out?”

“Other than the blue flaming hair?” He sighed and collapsed on his bed. “If she hadn’t been a ghost, she would have looked right at home in one of those bands Sam likes. She said she wanted to make people remember she still exists.”

“So she looked like a goth?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, but with some, uh… I think you’d say she’s more punk.”

“Woah! That’s weird,” Tucker stated after something on one of his tech devices beeped in the background. “So, apparently there have been a series of spontaneous fires that seem to occur about every ten years, but they started after the death of a local girl. Some people think it’s her ghost that causes them. I’ll send you the articles.”

It took only seconds for the article links to be sent. Danny nearly dropped the phone when the picture of the mentioned girl appeared on the screen. With the exception of the hair, the girl’s face matched that of the ghost. “That… that’s her! Wow, she really doesn’t look that much different as a ghost.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” Sam hummed as she reviewed the information. “Says here while she was unpopular at school, she was in a local band. She was found dead after her house burned down mysteriously. The police thought it might of been an arson, but officials were never able to verify anything. After her death and around its anniversary, there were reports of fires in the city. Sometimes, entire buildings are engulfed, but other times the words ‘you will remember’ appear burned into buildings.”

“I kinda remember hearing my dad mention something about ghost fires growing up, but with it being my dad, I never put any stock into it.”

“My mom said something about it once.”

“I have no idea why I keep forgetting your mom works for 911,” Sam interrupted. “You know, we might be able to use that to our advantage.”

“I mean, you can try, but she refuses to talk about anything other than the occasional funny call. The one about the ‘bambulance’ still brings me to tears.”

“Tuck, you’re getting distracted.”

“Right. Anyways,” some typing could be heard on Tucker’s end, “my mom thought the fires were from the girl’s bandmates. They had just recorded a song called ‘Remember’ which got some local play before she died. Since I know asking Mom for anything else is pointless, I think I’m gonna see if I can get into the files of those fires. The news articles all have explanations, but some of them seem a bit over the top.”

“How long will that take?”

Danny snorted. “Sam, it’s Tucker. Knowing him, he’s already looking at them.”

“I’m hurt, Sam. Do you really have that little faith in me?”

“I know you’ll be able to get them eventually. You’re track record hasn’t been all that great recently. You’ll still working on those files you got from Plasmius, after all.”

“Oh, I’ve finished the review on those. Some of it isn’t pretty, but I wanted to verify information directly from Vlad Master’s companies. That’s been slow going ‘cause he has some impressive firewalls, and I’m really trying not to get caught. As for this,” Tucker briefly shouted in triumph, “I’ve already gotten what I need. Hmm… that’s weird. The official investigations regarding the ‘Ember fires’, as they’re called, all state there was no known cause of the fire. There wasn’t even evidence of an accelerant… which is…?”

“It’s something used to make a fire go from a few flames to a roaring fire. Think of what happens when you add gasoline to a fire,” Sam explained as tapping could be heard on her end. Was she at the computer too? “Most arsonists use one. If they don’t, unless the flames start where there’s something like tissue paper, sawdust, or something else really flammable, the fire usually takes a lot of time to grow and become a problem. Tuck, is there anything about flammable materials?”

“Hmm… no, not really.”

Danny sighed as he got off the bed and paced his temporary room. “Great, now there’s a fire starting ghost on the prowl, on top of Plasmius, that thing… and possibly whatever is wrong with that girl. Tuck, do you have any updates on anything?”

“On the Plasmius front, no. Like I said, I’m trying to cross-reference those files against the files from VladCo and DALV, but that’s taking a while due to his security. For the creepy thing that attacked you, I have a notification set up for any potentially related attacks. I think that’s all I can do for now on that… As for Maura, I got distracted a bit when Plasmius had that chat with you, but I can tell you she stopped posting on social media right after her disappearing act. That’s pretty weird for girls in her clique. Give me a couple days to get her medical chart.” Something beeped in the background. “Oh, it looks like I might have a pattern for our fire bug ghost.”

“At least that’s something. Can you send them to me?”

Sam snorted. “What, you’re gonna try to figure out where she’ll be and talk to her?”

“I mean, it’s worth a shot. Maybe she knows something about Plasmius or that thing? And… maybe I can nicely ask her to stop lighting fires?”

“I think you’re just gonna end up with your ass kicked, but go ahead.”

“Thanks for that wonderful vote of confidence,” Danny deadpanned. The ghost was nice enough to give him a warning so she couldn’t be all bad. “I think if I open up with a ‘thank you’, she won’t outright attack me.”

“It’s your funeral.”

“Actually, Danny, can you die?” Tucker hesitantly asked. “I mean… your situation is kinda weird.”

He thought about it for a few moments. “I think so. Clockwork told me I’m alive, so that’s good enough for me. But, to be honest, I don’t really wanna think about it too much.”

“That’s fair.”

…

Danny’s conversation only lasted a few more minutes after Tucker asked the awkward question as his parents called for him over an intercom system. Uncertain if the correct response to the intercom should be to cringe or be impressed, he pushed it from his mind as he meandered down the hallways to attempt to find his parents.

Something about the décor of the mansion seemed familiar, but Danny found it difficult to place it. Vlad loved the Green Bay Packers, and he commonly used their colors of green and gold for accents. He stopped in his tracks as he glanced around. Plasmius also had green and gold splashes in his home. It had to be a coincidence.

Not wanting to think about it more, he raced down the halls and eventually came to the main foyer. His dad shot him a questioning glance as his mother stood and moved towards him.

“Hi, sweetie! How are you adjusting? It’s been a hectic couple days.”

“I’m okay. I’m just a bit tired,” he told her as he dodged a hug. “I let Sam and Tucker know we’re fine. I’m not dealing with Jazz until after you guys talk to her.”

“I trust the room is to your liking?”

Danny jumped as Vlad’s voice came from behind him. How did he miss him? “Yes. Thanks for letting us stay.”

Vlad waved his hand dismissively. “It’s no trouble at all. My house is yours.”

“Vlad, you mentioned you had a workshop we can use?” His mother asked as she abandoned her attempts at hugging her son.

After staring at her for a second, Vlad shook his head and regained composure. “Surely that can wait until tomorrow, my dear. You’ve been through quite a lot in the past twenty-four hours.”

“No can do, Vladdy!” Jack boomed as he excitedly stood. “You heard those policemen. They want a Fenton product, and I can’t sit still when that spook is still a threat to my family. Say, do you want to help?”

The billionaire grimaced before forcing a smile. “I must politely decline, but I will gladly look over any blue prints in the morning.”

“Don’t worry,” Maddie told him while giving her husband a fond grin, “I know how… enthusiastic Jack can be when he has a new project. I’ll also make sure he sleeps tonight. We don’t want any accidents.”

“That would be greatly appreciated.”

Danny glanced between Vlad and his parents. There was some sort of story he was missing. “Should I ask?” he hesitantly questioned.

“I was badly injured when we were in collage when an experiment went wrong,” Vlad explained as his expression hardened. “As a result, I’ve made it a rule to not be in a room when someone is actively making experimental items or preforming experiments. However, I’ll gladly double check procedures, blue prints, set ups, and results.”

“I… yeah… That… that makes sense. But you’re okay now?”

“Absolutely, my dear boy. You could say I gained a different outlook on life as a result.” Vlad gave a predatory grin which sent shivers down Danny’s spine. “Why, if I hadn’t gotten into that accident, I probably wouldn’t have ended up so successful.”

“Right…” His mother must have caught something off in Vlad’s tone as she furrowed her brow in confusion. “It’s gotten pretty late. Danny, will you be alright?”

“Huh? Probably. I mean, I could use a snack.”

“The kitchen and pantry are just down that hall.” Vlad pointed towards the hallway opposite of the way Danny originally came. “Will you be alright to be back to your room once you’re done? If you wait, I can escort you back once I’m done showing your parents where the lab is.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be alright. ‘Night everyone.” Chuckling as his father couldn’t contain his excitement anymore and bounded down the hall followed by his amused mother and wary Vlad, he just made his way to the kitchen. It thankfully was easy to find, and after making a sandwich, he meandered his way back towards his room.

….

Around midnight, Danny decided he would attempt to sneak out of the mansion. Luckily for him, Vlad put him in a room on the ground floor, saying something about how the upper floors weren’t ready yet. Luckier still, there were no bars on the windows. Sam’s parents tried doing something like before due to how many times she snuck out, but it was struck down by her Grandma Ida, who still had control of the deed at that time.

Escape ended up being a piece of cake. There didn’t seem to be any type of security system or guard which seemed strange, but that would probably change once the mansion was officially finished.

He had an idea of where the ghost might end up appearing thanks to the articles Tucker forwarded to him earlier so he booked it in the direction of an older housing plan near the city’s boarder with Elmerton. The majority of buildings in the area were row houses in disrepair. While there were still a few low income families in the area, most of the houses were considered condemned. Danny remembered hearing talk of tearing the houses down at one point, but either the project was shelved or abandoned.

As he approached, he decided to shift to his ghostly form. While it seemed unlikely he would encounter anyone, the area did have a reputation for crime. While he didn’t know what sort of protection being a ghost would give him, it seemed a better option. And, if that thing tried attacking him again, maybe he could float to safety. He really hoped that thing didn’t appear; his trust in his abilities honestly was non-existent.

The soft glow of his ghost form provided the majority of the light as he silently found his way to the road where the girl used to live. The few street lamps were either broken or burnt out, and some even seemed melted.

His destination, Garnier Avenue, seemed worse than the surrounding streets. At first he thought the houses were just gutted, but a second look said otherwise. Most of them had some evidence of fire: melted windows, ash marks, and collapsed roofs and walls. Ash and dust could be found on the road as well as the sidewalk, and in some places, they almost looked like outlines of people.

The area seemed dead. No noise. No sound. No movement. As he continued to move forward, his hair stood on end and his breath misted in front of him. It was almost as if he walked into some sort of wall of static electricity.

“So this is what you actually look like. You’re not that bad looking after all,” a curious voice called to him, making him jump. Danny spun around to see the ghost from earlier materialize in front of him. Her appearance hadn’t changed, but she seemed more solid. Even her voice seemed closer and more natural. “Do you know how many of us would kill to be able to blend in that well?”

“Uh… I really wouldn’t know. This is really new to me,” Danny relied as he held up his hands in what he hoped was a submissive manner.

Her eyes narrowed. “So why are you here, baby pop? Do I interest you?”

He gulped at the undertones of her applications. “A little? I mean, you were nice enough to let me there would be a fire, and I wanted to thank you for that. And maybe ask a couple questions?”

“You just happened to be there at the right time,” she responded offhandedly though her satisfied smirk suggested his thanks was welcome. “It would be a waste to see someone like you get destroyed by accident. But, I would like to know how you found me.”

“I mentioned you to a friend of mine, and he was able to find out about your legend.” Danny hoped he sounded genuinely curious and not creepy. Wait, was it possible for him to not be creepy? He was a ghost after all.

She nodded. “I like to come back around the anniversary of my death. It helps strengthen me.”

“You do seem… I think stronger is the word I want.”

“Glad you noticed, and that makes you more observant than most of the guys I’ve met over the years. Call me, Ember.” Grinning again, she walked around him almost as if she was examining him.

“I’m Danny.”

She snorted. “Bet that’s your real name. Don’t met too many ghosts who remember theirs. You really must be new. Anyways, you had questions?”

“Yeah. I was hoping you might know something about this thing that’s been seen around the town. It attacked me, and it’s caused enough trouble to get the police interested.” When she didn’t immediately respond, Danny took that as a sign he could continue. So, he quickly explained his interaction with whatever the thing was. When he finished, Ember expression turned stony.

“You’re telling me something like that has been seen in my town?” she demanded. Her hair, which had been gently waving in an invisible wind, suddenly blazed in a blue flame. “Are you telling me one of those things have been seen here?”

Danny gulped and nodded. “Like I said, it attacked me! What are they? Plasmius doesn’t know what they are either.”

“Plasmius? Plasmius is here too?” The temperature around them spiked as she shrieked. “Are you working for him? You better answer me, Dipstick.”

===

Notes: ghostly fire is usually considered insubstantial and doesn't tend to cause damage. Actual paranormal fire damage is usually associated with poltergeists, and more modern theories classify poltergeists as creations of psychokinesis (PK) agents (normally living people) instead of spirits.

Ember's background is directly taken from information provided by one of the show's directors.

"Bambalance" is a reference to an old but hilarious 911 call. You can find it on YouTube under the title "the guy, the deer, the dog, and the bambulance." There is some foul language in it.

Also, there is a very subtle 'Phantom of the Opera' reference in this chapter.

[yesiamkiwi]

New fic: Fishbowl

Fandom: Undertale

Rating: T (rating may change)

Warnings: kidnapping, result of kidnapping. nothing violent yet

Papyrus leaps at the chance to help his father with important work, but when he arrives at his childhood house something he wasn't at all expecting is waiting for him. Torn between his morals and the want for a closer relationship with Gaster, Papyrus has to help the small mermaid living in his pool.

Chapter 1 under the cut

Also on ao3 (link in the notes)

Papyrus had never been very close with his dad. It wasn’t that he was cruel or neglectful, quite the opposite. He was well cared for, growing up in a large house with anything he could want. However, his father was very emotionally distant. Sure, if he had a problem he could go to his father, who would do his best to listen and provide feedback, but he always seemed slightly uncomfortable and out of touch with children. Which is fair, seeing as how Papyrus was an accident.

Gaster had always preferred to keep his distance from people. The one time he didn’t, he managed to get pregnant. The partner he had taken was a one time thing; his father hadn’t been interested in telling him. He carried the child to term and when Papyrus was born, he kept him still. He may not have wanted a child, but Papyrus was his. So he did love Papyrus, truly he did; parenting just didn’t come naturally to him.

Papyrus was quite lonely during his childhood, despite his father’s best efforts. He often bounced from extracurricular activity to extracurricular activity, hoping each one would bring him friends, but he had never fit in. Maybe it was his social skills. He always talked too loud, was always moving, was very blunt at times and clueless at others. Maybe it was just him, his personality. He always strove to be kind and helpful but perhaps he was too overbearing instead.

So in his adult years, when his father invited him back to his childhood home to consult on a project he was working on, he eagerly jumped on the chance. He had never been allowed into his lab as a child, too dangerous, apparently. He did know his father did very important work though. That’s why he was the Royal Scientist.

Pulling into the neatly paved driveway, Papyrus parked his red sports car, a gift from his father. He had no idea what to expect as he unlocked the front door. His father had never specified, simply stating that it was urgent.

Stepping into the foyer, he called out, receiving no reply. Moving to the intercom on the wall, he pressed the button and called again. There was no answer from the speaker, but his phone chimed with a text from his father, telling him to come out back.

The backyard was about an acre, with large trees lining the edges, perfect for climbing. There were gardens, properly maintained by the caretakers. He’d always slipped outside during nap time to watch them work, hoping to help. He was never allowed, but occasionally the gardeners took pity on him and let him sample some of the fresh veggies. The carrots were always his favorite.

Tucked into one corner of the yard was a large, above ground pool. His father was standing nearby, balancing on the ladder leading up to the water, frantically writing something down.

“Father!” Papyrus smiled, racing over to him. Gaster looked back at him, giving a small smile before turning back to his work.

“Ah, hello, son. How was the drive?”

Instead of answering, Papyrus gasped and raced over to him. His face and coat were scratched and torn. He didn't seem to be dusting anywhere, but the sight was still worrying. "What happened?!"

Again his father turned to him, a more mischievous smile on his cracked face.  “Come take a look. Be careful not to get too close, though.”

Papyrus scrambled up next to his father, the ladder slightly too thin for both of them. Standing a rung lower than his father he moved to heal him but was instead directed again to the pool. He gripped the side and hesitantly peeked over, his father’s reassuring hand on the collar of his shirt.

There, at the bottom of the pool, about four feet down, was a mermaid pressed against the side of the pool, glaring up at them.

The mermaid was the skeleton kind, their magic a stunning bright cyan, matching the surrounding water. Through the sun glinting off the surface of the pool it was hard to see, but their sockets seemed large and round, white pips of magic within pointed right at them.

“...Father,” Papyrus said breathlessly, “what….. where did you find them?”

Mermaids were extremely rare, so rare in fact, that many didn’t believe they still existed. Sightings were few and far, far in between. They were supposedly a hybrid between two to three types of monsters, one of whom being a special type of fish monster that no longer existed in modern days. And to see one in his old backyard was astounding.

“I found them in the shallows off the coasts of the Ebott Seas, a few hours from here,” he said with an excited gleam in his eye - the one he always got when he was close to a breakthrough.

“Wowie!” Papyrus beamed. “How did you convince them to come with you? And what about their family!? Group? Uh, school?”

“Oh, I didn’t,” his father said simply, turning back to peer into the waters distractedly. Papyrus’ expression dropped in dawning horror as he continued. “Their pod weren’t nearby, as far as I could tell. They were sunbathing on the shore, around the back of the island where no one would see them. Well,” he laughed, as if this were all normal, “no one but me. I was very lucky to be sailing nearby at the time.”

“Father… you can’t. You can’t just kidnap people!” he exclaimed incredulously.

“I haven’t kidnapped anyone!” Dr. Gaster turned to fix him with a disappointed look. “I’m simply keeping them here until I find a way to communicate, to explain what I’m trying to accomplish. I’m certain that once they know they’ll be willing to help me.” He sighed, leaning against the rim of the pool, staring down at the mermaid. “Unfortunately I cannot communicate with them.” he smiled ruefully. “I’ve tried hands, but they don’t seem to understand. I’m afraid they’re closer to fish than skeleton.”

His father’s font was hard to understand by anyone other than a skeleton. Not to say it was impossible, but it took a lot of time and effort. It was frustrating more often than not so Dr. Gaster simply used hands with those that needed. If the mermaid didn’t understand either, their language must be completely different than skeletons now.

“So, you’d like me to try and talk to them?” Papyrus was doubtful. “Maybe a fish monster would work better?” He climbed down the ladder, stretching his legs.

“Son,” Gaster quickly followed, grasping his shoulders firmly. “You’re the only one that can do this. You have to understand how important my work is. To study a mermaid’s SOUL could progress my research in leaps and bounds. This could help so many people, Papyrus. I’m afraid others wouldn’t understand. They’d put a stop to this before I can even begin.”

Papyrus was tense underneath his hands. This just wasn’t right but looking into his father’s eyes he saw the resolve and knew he believed in what he was saying. His father dedicated the past 45 years of his life to the study of the SOUL. His goal was to find a way to bring monsters back from falling, something believed to be impossible. He knew his father truly wanted to help people, he just wasn’t sure how holding a mermaid against their will would help.

As if sensing his doubt, his father let go of his shoulders to instead grip his hands. His face grew less wild and more pleading. This was honestly the most expressive Papyrus had ever seen the man. “I know this will help in so many ways,” Gaster continued. “I just need to communicate with them. Anytime I get close they try to drown me.”

Casting a glance back at the metal side of the pool, Papyrus sighed. He supposed if they could find a way to explain to the mermaid their intentions, and the mermaid agreed to stay, there would be no harm in it. However, if it was clear they couldn’t get through to them, or they didn’t want to stay here to help. Well. Papyrus loved his father dearly and wanted to please him but. This was another monster’s life.

“Okay.” Looking back at his father he nodded resolutely. “But you need to understand. If they don’t want to be here I can’t keep them. And…” he hesitated, not wanting to upset the man who raised and loved him all these years. “I couldn’t stand for you keeping them either.”

Gaster’s mouth twitched downward but he nodded, relaxing his grip and stepping out of his space. “I understand. Thank you. Now there are a few things I should warn you about."

Standing at the edge of the ladder once again, Papyrus stared nervously into the depths. The mermaid was still resting at the bottom. Their head had been resting in their arms but as soon as they noticed him at the surface they tensed back into a defensive stance. Papyrus shuddered at the sight of their bared fangs. Sure he had a set of his own, but this monster was clearly ready to use them.

His father had also warned him about their claws, much sharper than his own, hence the scratches on his father. Physical damage posed much more of a risk than the threat of drowning. Magical was still to be questioned though, as no one knew what their abilities still entailed. Anytime someone had supposedly gotten close to one they had simply swam away.

Skeletons, luckily, were a species of monster that didn’t need much air. All SOULs needed some sort of magical charge, which carried much more easily through air than water, but depending on the species, you could stay under for quite a while. Not to say it was impossible for a normal monster to live their entire life underwater, just that it wouldn’t be a very good one, even for a fish monster. Papyrus wondered if mermaids had evolved to live completely underwater and still function normally or if they still came to the surface for air.

It was times like these Papyrus was grateful he could heal so well. He took a calming breath and without further ado, he stepped over the rim of the pool and eased himself into the water.