#Danny is questioning why only a kid not even ten is taking care of him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

phantomphangphucker · 1 year

Text

Phic Phight - Half(a) Fool Too Much

For: @lexiepiper @murphy-kitt @a-closet-emo @amabsis @lexosaurus @deathcomes4u @ventisettestars @dennyz-backroom @paenling @echoghost1 @ssprout @silverwing013 @mossy-covered-bones

April Fools in Amity Park equals absolute Chaos. Especially when Danny Fenton, aka the weird pun-loving half ghost kid, is involved.

“So, whatcha in for, Fenturd?”.

Danny snorts, rolling his eyes at the jock, “you know me well enough, what am I not in for”, leaning back in his seat, “what really sealed the deal was me inconveniencing Lancer, you see….”.

—1 hour prior—

Okay. So Danny might have fucked up. To be fair it was totally one hundred percent Vlad’s fault. Definitely. (That was a lie)

Vlad had been complaining Danny’s ears off about the towns ‘weird fetishisation’ of his two halfs, so Danny did something. A very something something.

Bribed a few Neko cat ghosts to run around confessing their undying love for Plasmius all around town. Then tricked a very drunken Plasmius to chase a laser pointer across the rooftops; that way everyone would think Plasmius was a weird cat ghost, and thus living regular humans definitely wouldn’t be interested in that right? Wrong.

Then today Vlad tried to hold a press conference to ‘dispel the rumours about one of the local ghosts’, said rumours had spun wildly into half the town thinking Plasmius was a ancient cat god taking a humanoid form to woo ‘a mate’. So Danny tried to be helpful and possessed the podium mic to voice over Vlad so it sounded like this was a press conference to declare his undying love of cheese and only cheese.

The town would definitely not still be interested in someone who proclaimed to have a passionate love for literal cheese baths.

Except that had been followed up by someone shouting, “cats love cheese so is this your attempt to woo Plasmius?”, followed by the crowd whispering about the ‘town hotties’ trying to get together.

That all isn't the why or how of Danny getting detention though. Rather it was the fact that Vlad’s response to that question had been to promptly swear in Russian.

All it took was one “Пиздец” (Damn it) and Danny burst out laughing in shock so hard that… he got stuck in the microphone.

Stuck in a microphone during school hours… when he was supposed to be in Mr. Lancer’s class… a Mr. Lancer that was already fed up with everyone’s April fools shit, especially Danny’s.

—Present—

Danny shrugs, “so yeah, Lance had to fetch me out of a microphone while Vladdie snapped about how he-”, making mocking air quotes, “‘didn't know whether to be touched or pissed, Daniel’. I for one was very impressed with myself; both of my mild swear-related Russian skills and my messing with people skills”, and nods curtly to himself.

Wes chuckles a little, “you’re a little jack ass, but even I’m impressed you got mayor Bastard to actually swear”.

Danny finger guns at the wannabe sleuth, “and he did it in front of a mic”, then grumbling, “granted he could just blame me for that and say I was manipulating the sounds”.

Dash raises an eyebrow, “you were doing that though”.

“Shush you”.

Dash chuckles, leaning back himself, “least all I did was set the bathrooms on fire”.

Wes pointing at him, “on fire by making them spew literal magma. I’m surprised the schools still standing”.

Danny just looks impressed, “that was you? Damn. That shit out shone my whole ghost bees in the water lines”.

“… Didn't three people have to go home because of that?”.

Danny glares at the jock, “oh like you care, Mr. Got Kwan To Replace The Footballs With Explosives. That wasn't even original”.

Wes scowls at him, “well unlike your half ghost ass, we can’t just phase things through peoples locker doors or turn peoples pants invisible”.

Dash nodding, “or stab ourselves in the heart with a pencil to scare a sub”.

“Or swallow enough forks to violently vomit up forks in the middle of gym class”.

“I’d bet ten bucks you were also the one who made the stop signs start ominously walking towards parked cars”.

Wes rolls his eyes, “and that whole every pot in town simultaneously falling over and exploding had to have been you”.

Danny gives them a mean smug smirk, “hey if the towns going to decide that vampire looking ass is a cat god, then I have to out cat him”.

Dash tilts his head, “but didn't everyone drop that after, like, almost our entire class got both Phantom and The Box Ghost to also chase a laser pointer?”.

“That means nothing”, Danny puts his hands behind his head, “honestly? I’m more surprised that me parading Pariah around as my new dad wasnt the thing that finally broke Lancer”.

Wes actually slaps the back of Danny’s head, “I thought that was Vlad pranking you! The entire town blamed me for that shit!”.

“Why the fuck would you get me ghost adopted!”.

“I don’t know! That’s what I said!”.

Dash gives Wes a dull look, “dont you dare tell us that you're in here for something you didn't even do”. Of course weird Wes would be the one to get in trouble without causing trouble even on fucking April fools.

Wes huffs, grumbling, “well I did steal the G.I.W.’s new recruit tour bus in an attempt to make them follow a certain someone”.

Dash groans, “even on April fools you cant drop that ‘Fenturd is Phantom’ crap? Sure, he might be some freak ghost hybrid thing but come on already”.

Wes throws up his hands, “OH MY GOD YOU ARE ALL FUCKING DUMBASSES”.

Danny chuckles at his expense, “says the dumbass that apparently crashed a government bus into the cafeteria soup pot”.

Dash blinks, “yeah i still don’t get why the lunch ladies make the soup in a five foot by five foot vat”.

Danny shrugs, was it gross? Yeah. Was he complaining? Not really. “At least the G.I.W. contaminating it with cleaners got us out of eating it”. All three nodding readily.

Wes huffs, eyeing Danny, “what I don't get is why you even did that thing with Pariah? How was having a tyrannical genocidal mad man following you around shouting about forged adoption papers and trying to stab you with a sword, a good prank?”.

“Fishing for fresh gossip, are we?”.

“Oh fuck you”.

Danny chuckles and shrugs, “it pissed Vlad off”, shrugging, “plus, Pariah is kinda pretty badass. Have you seen his biceps? He has black-clad knight even”.

Dash quirks an eyebrow and shakes his head, “you could have just stolen the mayors bed, not went through freaking adoption, you weirdo. Point on the rest though”, and eyes his own bicep, flexing.

“Hey, I already did the whole fill up water bed with wet cement thing; the last thing I am is an unimaginative repeater”.

“I’d say you're lucky that didn't kill him, but if Vlad couldn’t survive deadly situations, someone would have assassinated him by now”.

“Wait, would that make you, like, ghost royalty now? You should totally boss Phantom around now”.

Danny gives the jock a blank look, “Dash, I’m not bossing a ghost around in their own lair, you dick”. Dash just rolls his eyes at that, while Wes mutters, “you can't boss yourself around anyways”, which goes ignored.

All three jerk at the door getting yanked open… by Pariah Dark, “I’VE FOUND YO-”, followed by a red blast shooting him away, the door swinging back shut, a bunch of thumping, a not so small explosion, and the door opening back up. It’s the FrightKnight, “I blame you for this”, he appears to be ‘dragging off’ Pariah -who glares dangerously at Danny- by the cape to do royal duties.

Danny grins meanly as the door reshuts, “I guess I should also mention some ghosts who really don’t like me are trying to make my ‘new dad’ take responsibility for me”.

Dash blinks before putting his head down on his desk and wheezing, “you really went and pranked a ghost king, you fucking weirdo”.

A couple more thumps make them eye the door, then the wall as the sounds seem to be coming from the room over now. They all glance at each other, shrug, and get up to investigate. At this point, how much more trouble could they even get in anyways?

---

Valerie was having a day, alright? April fools was one of the worst days in her opinion, and not just because of the ghosts being ghostly pains in the ass; no it was mostly Danny’s half ghostly ass. What kind of (lovable) psycho convinces everyone who sells salad to sell exclusively screaming ghost salad. And that’s not even touching him being responsible for her having to chase goddamn Pariah around and actually play nice with The FrightKnight.

It was like Danny’s goal every April was to turn the entire town into a hostage situation and blow shit up. At least he was also pestering that lying asshole Vlad, but still.

So now, just like every April First since she started being a hunter, she gotten shit-kicked. Normally she’d be cool with Phantom maybe coming and patching her up, but knowing that ghost, he’d clap her in the face with a ghost-shaped pie first.

And as if she could see the future, the classroom door opens and whoever gets to see her injured bullshit. Fucking lovely.

…

Annnnnnd of course it’s Dash, resident bully and ex-friend. Danny, the reason for all her problems today and ex-boyfriend. And Wes, the wack job conspiracy nut. Fun. Fuck the entire universe and Phantom too.

At least she’s still in her suit. That was something.

Dash, the ass, whistles, “damn, you got your ass kicked”.

She groans and half slurs, “oh fuck you”.

Danny finger guns while the three boys walk closer, “swearing at civilians, I like it”.

She wants to punch him.

Wes throws up his hands, “oh great the other teenage superhero that no one believes me about”.

Earning a round of, “shut up, Wes”, from everyone.

Danny shrugs, leaning down, “but hey, from one Wes victim to another, let’s get you to not be a blood fountain”.

No one says or does anything for a second before Valerie cautious speaks up, “are you trying to fix things for once? On April fools?”.

“Hey it’s not that weird”.

Everyone shouting, “Yes it is!”, isn’t surprising.

Danny pouts, “fine, I’m doing this weirdly then. Give me your scanner”.

Valerie sighs, “this might as well happen”.

Dash sounds more cautious than she had, “what are you going to do with it”.

“Possess it and jump start healing”.

Dash quirks an eyebrow, “after you got detention for getting stuck in a microphone?”.

“Oh it’ll be fine”.

… it was not fine.

Danny’s voice comes out through the scanner. “Uh. I’m stuck again. Oops?”.

Everyone facepalms.

Valerie sighs, granted Danny had jumpstarted her suits healing to a weird degree but for fucks sake. At least she could fix this easily, a couple taps and boom! one half ghost ex gets ejected.

Danny just blinks from where he landed on his ass on the floor, “huh. Well that was convenient”.

Valerie grumbles from the floor, “convenient my ass. One of the most pain in the ass ghosts in this town has a thing for overshadowing, protecting myself against that is common sense”.

“Hey at least you don’t have cat ears-”.

She mildly shoots him as she stands up, “you can shut the fuck up, oh my Zone you are a dick”, and aggressively waves away the ectoplasm the boy had made form little cat ears on her helmet. She also decides to take the building shaking slightly as her cue to book it outta there; Zone knows what ghostly brawl is awaiting her now; the three boys not far behind.

The last thing they expected was for there to be a couple of men in suits flashing badges and asking them if they can help them find a certain boy; Valerie just chuckling awkwardly and flying off quickly on her board, the boys can deal with this shit.

Danny looking to Wes while gesturing grandly, arms still smoking slightly, “Wes! I thought you just stole a G.I.W. vehicle not a standard government vehicle!”.

“I did!”.

One of the men clears their throat, “actually, we’re looking for Daniel Fenton”.

Danny drops his arms, “ah”, blinking, “Fuck”, and turns to book it down the hallway.

Dash crouches on his heels, wheeze laughing, “the Hell else did you do, Fentwink!”, wheezing some more, “you did some crazy shit, some stupid shit, and some hilarious shit; but what did you do to get arrested by the government”. Wes rubs his eyes, “why do I even try to get him in trouble? He’s doing it all on his own”.

Danny, for whatever reason, doesn’t try to phase or fly off -likely not wanting to flaunt his ghostliness too much to outsiders- and thus gets tackled to the ground. One of the agents snapping, “Daniel Fenton, you’re under arrest for hacking your way into presidency”.

Danny blinks, “… TUCKER! YOU DICK!”.

Said geeks voice comes through the -hacked- speaker system, “how was I supposed to know hacking the federal government was a bad idea? Don't you want to be able to say you took over the country before the fruitloop could?”.

The government agents look like they’re trying to not be swayed by this, though it was an… interesting attempt out of being arrested. All their proof led back to Daniel not this Tucker though. Eh they’ll let their boss figure it all out.

Tucker winces, watching Danny glare bloody murder at the school cameras while being carted off by government agents. He looks to Sam from their spot up in the school ceiling, “do you think I should just bite the bullet and show him Phantom’s fursona that I got on the evening newspapers front page?”.

Sam glares, “what did you ask the artist to make him”.

“…”, Tucker looks down and sighs in defeat, “a badger”.

“You’re fucking Dead”.

(Danny -as Phantom- did, in fact, kick his ass later while throwing newspapers at him and chasing him around town)

---

William Lancer sighs, taking a seat with his tea, unfolding the evening news. Figured that on April fools the paper would choose to run a, freakishly well done, anthropomorphic version of the local town hero ghost. “Hopefully there’s something in here I can use as a creative writing punishment”.

Lance Thunder chuckles hollowly, “those teens giving you trouble? I saw what that Daniel boy did with the mayors mic”.

William grimaces, “that wasn't even the worst of it. When I finally gave him a detention he ate my tie. He vomited forks on the gym teacher earlier”.

Mr. Thunder grimaces, “that boy is a menace. They give you a pay raise yet?”.

“Ha. As if”.

“Same”, Mr. Thunder puts a hand to his chest, “and I have to report on all this mess tomorrow. Someone glued a bunch of hair to hotdogs and hung them from trees; the smell was nauseating. And that magma river from Casperhigh? Who even did that?”.

William sighs, “Dash, the quarter back. He got detention, for once, too. I can’t exactly make him clean up magma, so I think I’m going to make him sweep up all the whisp ghost spit up”, shaking his head, “if I made Daniel do that, he’d roll around in it”.

“My hair could never”.

William nods slowly, though pausing with his tea cup to his lips as the two Lance’s stare at a government vehicle going by with a seemingly arrested Daniel sitting in it and kicking the window bars while growling like a feral animal.

Both Lance’s blink, “what did he do now”.

Sam running by glances over, huffing, “Tucker made him the president of the United States”.

Lance Thunder pulling out his note pad, sounding defeated, “guess I know tomorrows main story: ‘Underage, Under-Alive, and Undervoted: Half Dead Local Becomes President, Voting Rights Hacked’”.

William Lancer nodding, “and I know his most recent excuse for ditching detention: ‘sorry I was busy getting arrested for being the president of the United States’”.

They eye each other and sigh, continuing non with their respective drinks and trying to have a little bit of peace for a bit.

End.

Prompts: - Danny learns how to possess inanimate objects. It’s all fun and games until he gets stuck… and People know Danny Fenton is half ghost but don’t know he’s Phantom. and When Valerie found herself stumbling into the first empty classroom she could find, bleeding and woozy, she did not expect to see a pair of shoes waltz up to her spot on the floor calmly. She was grateful they hadn’t started screaming, and looked up at her possible ally. When she saw who they were, she cursed her luck (and Phantom, too, for good measure). and People and ghosts in Amity (for whatever reason) find both Vlad and Plasmius to be attractive, so Vlad goes to Danny to help and help he does! (He makes everything worse, for Vlad that is) and Tucker fucked up. Hard. But it’s like, how the hell was he supposed to know that hacking the federal government was a bad idea? and Tucker commissions a very good artist to design Danny Phantom a fursona. and Danny decides Pariah is adopting him. Maybe Danny fell into the keep, and open the coffin out of curiosity. Upon seeing Pariah, Danny makes him ghost dad. Maybe to get Vlad off his case by having a scarier dad, but maybe cause pariah looks cool in the eyes of a teenager? Doesn't need to be Pariah redemption. and It’s annual Casper High April Fools Prank War. It’s a day friendships are broken and not even the teachers are safe. Dash, Wes and Danny talk about what did they do to get detention in a day that has no laws. and Danny commits harmless poltergeist mischief (read: cat behavior) around the town, or is otherwise an absolute Creature. and Danny finds out Vlad knows Russian. How? Well, Vlad swore in his native langue not realizing that Danny has been slowly teaching himself Russian (so he’s that much more ready to be on the ISS) and he started with the swears because he’s a teenager. and Everyone knows that cats go crazy for laser-pointers- but what do ya know, they work on ghosts too! and For two men who share similar names, that wasn't what Mr. Lancer and Lance Thunder connected over. There is Amity and there are ghosts and *they do not get paid enough for this shit*. (Share a rapport, friendship, relationship, whatever, go for it) and “Oops”

81 notes · View notes

clynnra · 3 years

Text

Strongest Together

After that disappointing last ten minutes of the series finale, I didn't think I would ever write for my beloved boys again. But, thanks to binging lots of episodes of the show on ion since it started airing there (happy to post this story on one of ion's Five-O Fridays) and reading many fix-it fics, I had to do this for Danny. I will be forever bitter that our last glimpse of him ever was hurt (physically and emotionally) and alone on Steve's beach. So this is my way of fixing that sad image. There's background (literally, just a few minor mentions) Steve/Catherine and Danny/others, but this is a McDanno story. I didn't want to vilify Steve, since he should take care of himself and find peace, so I hope that comes across. Finally, eternal thanks to my beta PhoebeMiller for making my story way better than it was with her fantastic feedback about story line, diction, and all the grammar. She's an awesome writer in her own right - go read her wonderful stories! And always thanks to SheppardMcKay for inspiring me to post fic.

Steve and Danny. Danny and Steve. Steve left Danny. Danny was alone.

Sighing, Danny knew he had his kids, his family and the team. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt so fucking much. Days like today, it still hurt to breathe.

Danny didn’t begrudge Steve finding his peace. Or his taking care of himself. Hell, he tried to instill self preservation in his Neanderthal time and again. But when Steve finally took his advice and put himself first, it had ripped Danny’s heart to shreds.

It still hurt so damn much because of the way Steve left. The timing sucked. Just out of the hospital, Danny could barely walk even with his cane. This proved Steve was hiding the depth of his own suffering. Normally, he'd never leave Danny when he was injured. Danny smiled and remembered Steve raiding his house for cookies after he'd been shot in quarantine. The fondness bubbling up just about killed him.

More memories of this year from hell came back, and Danny had to sit down. He'd moved himself into Steve's house after Doris died because he sensed Steve needed him. The loss was just too much after Joe's death. When Joanna had died, Steve was there for him, cooking him eggs most mornings, claiming routine was good. Danny knew Steve was talking about himself, too.

They'd fallen into something Danny dared call a relationship when he was awake late at night, insomnia raging. He and Steve lived together. They ate meals together most nights. They walked Eddie, locked up the house and said good night like a couple.

A couple of idiots, Danny grumbled now. Or was he the biggest idiot? He'd made this huge leap into what proved to be a lonely abyss.

What hurt the most was Steve pretty much rejecting the idea of the two of them growing old together on that beach. Danny didn't know for sure when his best friend would return from his Kung Fu adventures. He'd only counted on Steve coming home at some point. Now, when he replayed their last conversation, the dagger twisted in his chest even more.

The sad fact was - Danny loved Steve. Not just like a friend. He loved him like I want to spend the rest of my life with you even though you drive me crazy, you caveman. He never told Steve he was in love with him. Danny was scared and convinced such an admission would be suicide. Because he feared their friendship would be over, was so sure of it, in fact, that he kept all of his feelings locked away. He didn't want to fuck up the best friendship he'd ever had.

Not to mention, Steve was straight. He'd never given Danny any hint that he was interested. Unless you counted Steve's octopus arms and his total disregard for Danny's personal space. Which Danny did not dwell on. No way could he let himself go there. That's why he'd pushed Steve into dating. First Brooke and then the vet. Neither had really worked out, and Danny did not allow himself to question why. He would have kept on searching for the perfect mate for Steve, too, if he hadn't left. Even though Danny wanted it to be him.

No one knew Danny's secret. Although he mostly dated women, he had a few relationships with men while at Seton Hall. He kept his attraction to men close to the vest. He'd thought his college experiments were in the rearview mirror until the giant goof stole his crime scene.

To distract himself from the heartbreak over Steve’s dating, he’d focused on reconciling with Rachel in a vain attempt to stitch his family back together. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, it just didn’t work since he was in love with Steve. When they finally figured out they were better as friends, Rachel shocked him with advice to stop dithering and tell Steve. He was so taken aback by Rachel’s accurate insight into his heart, past all his bullshit, he’d gone to that bar and met Joanna. Like so many other things in his life, hooking up with her to forget Rachel and Steve had ended all kinds of bad. Spectacular didn't even cut it. Joanna's death wasn't his fault. This he knew. But he couldn't stop feeling guilty. She was with him in the car because of how he'd chosen to mend himself, and she'd died after everything he'd done to try to save her.

And of course, there was Catherine. He envied her for having Steve the way he wanted. She knew every inch of him. She knew so many more secrets. Steve had opened his heart to her - and what had she done? She'd pulled a Doris. More than once. And the idiot took her back.

Weren't they a pair? Danny knew he was a hypocrite for being angry with Steve about getting back with an ex time and again. He didn't care. He couldn't help feeling upset that Steve was with Catherine (probably this very minute) and not him.

+++++++

Three months had passed since Steve left, and Danny’s PT was coming along well. He texted Steve a few times a week to check in, while Steve returned his texts within a couple hours. They’d spoken on the phone a few times, and Danny lost himself in the comforting cadence of Steve’s voice. Their calls ranged from about 20 minutes to almost an hour, and their talks were nice. But during one of their conversations, as he listened to Steve chatter on about what he did in whatever destination he was currently staying, Danny realized that Steve’s journey to find himself didn’t include him. Steve didn’t need him like Danny needed him. And that revelation punched the breath out of him. He tried to cover it, but Steve, with his keen SEAL senses, heard it.

“Danno, you okay?” Steve interrupted his story about what he saw in Scotland.

“Yeah, babe, I’m ok. Just still get tired sometimes. Had PT this morning and energy kinda zapped. You mind if we pick this up some other time? I’m gonna have a lie down.” Danny chewed his lips as he lied. It was a white lie, but still.

“Ok… you take care buddy. I love you.” Steve said with a note of concern.

“You too.” replied Danny. He couldn’t tell Steve he loved him on their calls because he didn’t want Steve to hear how in love with him he was. Texting “love you, too” was fine, but when he said it, he felt his heart in his throat.

Putting his phone down, Danny glanced around himself. He was still at Steve’s house sitting on his couch. Eddie was laying on the floor nearby. And Danny came to a decision. Steve was out finding himself, and Danny really needed to do the same. He had spent so much of the past ten years being part of Steve and Danny that outside of being a father to Grace and Charlie and being on the task force, he‘d kinda lost himself. He felt like his life wasn’t making sense after deciding to just be friends with Rachel and then the tragedy with Joanna. He knew that in order to move on with his life, he had to make a change. He would always be there for Steve, but it was time he was there for himself.

A few days later, Steve called again. This time he was in Ireland. He told Danny about the beautiful scenery there, and after he was done, he asked, “So, what are you up to now, Danno? PT almost done right?”

Danny took a deep breath and started. “Funny you should ask that. I, um, I’m gonna move back to my place, Steve.”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“Why? Danny, is something wrong?” Steve replied, trying to keep a lock on his emotions.

“No, babe.” Danny grimaced and continued. “I just, uh, think it’s time to move back. You know, you’re out there trying to find yourself and your peace without me…”

Steve gasped, “Danny…”

Shaking his head, Danny kept going. “and that’s fine, Steve. I’m not trying to make you feel bad. You deserve to find the peace and happiness you need. I just need to find myself again a bit. After Joanna died, I felt sorta lost. And I was starting to make sense of my life again before Daiyu Mei swooped in…” He didn’t mention and when you left me. Danny shook that thought from his head.

“So, I need to do this. To remember who I was before I was part of Steve and Danny…” he finished with a fake chuckle.

“Danno, are you sure?” Steve asked, a note of sadness in his voice.

Danny nodded even though Steve couldn’t see him. “Yes.”

There was another moment of charged silence.

“Ok, Danno, I got it. You need this, so I got your back. Whatever you need. Hey, I gotta head out, but I’ll call again, alright?” Steve sounded like he was happy for Danny but wasn’t quite believing it.

Danny replied, “Sure. Bye, babe.”

Steve said clearly, “I love you, Danny.”

“You too.” Danny croaked out. When the call ended, he dropped his phone next to him and covered his face with his hands taking in a few deep breaths.

It was time to find who he was again without Steve.

+++++++

Danny finally completed his eight weeks of PT, and his doctor okayed his return to light work aka paperwork. He still had to check in each month since it was his second gunshot wound in his chest in two years. As part of his process to return to Five-O, the governor mandated Danny to complete visits with his therapist since he survived such a traumatic experience. At first, he was annoyed he had to go to therapy again; he’d rather eat pineapple on his pizza. But during the couple of months of sessions about his kidnapping and near death at the hands of Daiyu Mei, he found himself working through various issues including the death of his partner Grace, his guilt over Matty, his complicated relationship with Rachel, Grace’s kidnapping and almost fatal car accident, Charlie’s paternity and medical condition, as well as other work related stresses and traumas. The governor’s directive for Danny’s therapy was once a week for two months, but he continued past that, and for a few weeks, he was going twice a week. He just unloaded whatever was burdening his mind and heart. He felt stronger for it. He even told the therapist about his feelings for Steve, and she suggested that to find closure or peace about it, he should consider discussing his feelings with Steve. Danny knew she was right but wasn’t ready yet. However, talking things out gave him the perspective he needed.

With the end of PT and his ongoing therapy doing well, he told the kids first he was moving out of Steve’s house. They were shocked, Tani near tears while Junior took the news stoically. But once Danny told them why, they were very supportive and helped Danny move to his now renovated place over two weekends. Lou, Quinn, and Adam also chipped in their time to help with Danny’s move. Since Junior moved in with Tani, they figured out a schedule of who would check on Steve’s place and when including the upkeep of the grounds. Junior and Tani told Danny once he was cleared for regular work, he could share some of the maintenance duties. They'd take care of it for now. Tani joked that maybe they could get Kamekona to hire some of his family. Danny rolled his eyes and smacked her. None of them had enough money for that enterprise.

Eddie was another story. Poor guy was just adapting to his master being gone. Now they were relocating him. Danny decided Eddie would live with him, and Junior would take him as time allowed since he loved Eddie, too. It was a good arrangement, as the loyal dog loved each of them. And he enjoyed the extra attention he was getting.

Danny felt like things were starting to get back to the new normal without Steve while he was at work doing paperwork and running point for any cases from HQ if needed. He surprised himself that he got the hang of the HQ computer table after getting lots of help from the team. Quinn was especially patient, and he appreciated it.

While Danny settled back at work, he still kept in contact with Steve. His best friend would mostly text him to check in with how things were going and send some pictures of gorgeous landscapes and appetizing food. When they did talk on the phone here and there, Steve would catch Danny up on things with him. Danny winced when Steve spoke about Catherine, but tried to sound as supportive as possible. He had to keep reminding himself that if Steve was happy with her, he would just have to accept it. And during one of these phone calls, Danny promised himself that he needed to start dating again. He may be in love with Steve, but he also owed it to himself to move forward and not spend the rest of his life pining after his best friend who was happy with the love of his life.

In a bold move, he asked Adam to be his wingman, explaining he needed to shake things up. He wanted to reclaim who he was before Daiyu Mei and even before his last disastrous attempt to get back with Rachel. What he left unspoken was his need to reinvent himself without Steve.

Adam didn’t even raise an eyebrow and had replied, “You got it, brother. You were there for me when I was lost without Kono, so I’m here for you.”

Danny was so grateful. They went to nice bars, the types professionals patronize. Danny did score dates with some doctors, lawyers, and accountants. He surprised Adam by dating both men and women, but after that initial shock, Adam supported his choices, even offering to set Danny up with friends. He even went on a few double dates with Adam and Tamiko. The companionship was nice, and the sex even nicer, but Danny didn’t feel like any of these people would help him get over Steve. At least he felt like his life was more balanced and not just focused on Steve all the time.

When he first mentioned to Steve that he was dating again, there was a silence long enough that Danny thought the call dropped. He could easily FaceTime Steve but just could not find the courage to see his beloved face again. The phone calls offered distance, a buffer. And Danny needed it so he could continue to support Steve and survive his updates when they included Catherine.

Just when Danny was ready to ask his best friend if he could hear him, an exaggeratedly upbeat Steve jumped back in.

“Hey, buddy, I’m glad you’re getting out there again. You deserve to be happy, too.” His voice cracked on the last bit.

After that last odd tone from Steve, they continued like normal when Danny filled him in on the latest with Grace and Charlie. The rest of the call was pleasant with some of their usual teasing.

But on the next call when Danny mentioned how he and Keith went on a double date with Adam and Tamiko, Steve choked and started coughing on the phone.

“Hey, babe, you ok? Don’t choke on the butter in your coffee, alright?” Danny joked.

Steve got his breath back and said, “Sorry, went down the wrong tube. Wait, so you’re dating guys now, Danny?”

Danny didn’t care for Steve’s tone, but answered, “Well, I did date a few guys back in college, but just stopped once I met Rachel.” He didn’t mention and once I met you. “Is that gonna be a problem for you, Steven?”

Steve quickly responded, “Of course not, Danny. I’m just shocked you never told me this in the over ten years we’ve known each other. And for the record, it’d be hypocritical of me if it was.”

Now it was Danny’s turn to gasp. “Wait, when the hell were you dating guys, Steve? In all the years we’ve been together, you’ve only talked about women.”

Sighing, Steve said, “Well, I didn’t really date guys, Danny. When I was deployed, I helped my teammates out like they helped me. So to be more specific, I’ve had sex with guys, but not actually dated them. I enjoyed the sex and was even attracted to some of the guys, but DADT kept me from being open about being sexually attracted to men.”

Danny couldn’t help himself. “Did Cath know?”

Steve chuckled briefly. “Of course, man. I told her I slept with several men and was attracted to some. She was cool with it since she had some bi friends and family.”

Danny admired Steve’s honesty, and he wanted to be honest, too.

“Steve, dating these men and women - it’s nothing serious. Don’t get me wrong, the company and sex are great, but they don’t compare to you.”

It sounded like Steve sniffled on the other end of the line. His voice was slightly hoarse. “And just so you know, partner, no one will ever replace you. No one can. Hey, we gotta grab some food…”

Danny teased, “Try not to ruin your food with pineapple, you animal. Enjoy your meal.”

Snickering, Steve added, “Copy that.”

Steve’s voice became sincere again. “I’ll call you again soon, Danno. I love you.”

Automatically, Danny replied, “You, too.”

Steve’s breath hitched before saying, “I miss you, Danny. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

Danny exhaled, “I miss you, too. Bye, babe.”

Once Danny placed his phone down, he was like, good going Williams. You almost told him you’re in love with him while Cath was right there. Don’t be an idiot next time.

+++++++

It had been a week since that eye-opening phone call and about six months since Steve left, Danny had been back to regular responsibilities at work for about a month. His therapy sessions were twice a month now. He was still seeing people but didn’t feel the desperation to date like when he first started a few months ago. He felt confident in his own skin again, feeling better both professionally and personally. But he was still in love with Steve. Danny finally decided. Fuck it. I’ll always love the maniac, I just have to live with it.

And it came to a head during one of their phone calls almost two months later.

Danny couldn’t keep himself from asking, “You happy with Cath, Steve?”

There was a pause before Steve said, “I wouldn’t know. She left about two months ago on another CIA assignment. She offered to come back when her job was over, but I told her that I need stability and consistency and her work didn’t provide that. I said I was proud that she found her way and happy for her that she loved her job. I told her that I would always love her, but she deserved someone who was in love with her.”

Danny’s heart sped up with hope. “So, what are you saying, Steve?”

Steve pushed air through his nose. “I’m saying that I couldn’t commit to her because I’m in love with you.”

“Steve…?” Danny’s voice shook with emotion.

“Danny, every time I told you I love you when we ended our calls, I meant it as I’m in love with you. You never repeated it to me so I assumed you didn’t feel the same way. But once you told me you dated guys, I got hopeful again. And after that phone call, I stopped sleeping with Cath. And she knew something was up with the no sex but never called me on it. That’s just not what we do. Things are easy for us, and when they’re not, we still pretend that they are. But my heart couldn’t just be satisfied with what was easy and familiar anymore. I needed the challenge and passion. I need you.”

Danny confessed, “Babe, I’m in love with you, too. I just couldn’t tell you since I thought you had your happily ever after with Catherine. When I figured you guys were permanent, I dated to move on without you. But it’s no use, Steve. I want you. I want everything with you.”

Choked with emotion, Steve whispered, “Danny.. I’m coming home.”

“I’m so glad, babe. I love you.”

+++++++

Two days later, Danny was at baggage claim. He spotted Steve immediately, tall and gorgeous with a full beard and short but longer than military regulation hair. Steve saw him too, and his face lit up with a huge smile that crinkled his eyes. They moved quickly through the crowd to each other. As he got closer, Danny spotted the specks of white in Steve’s hair and thought it just made his big goof even more handsome. Finally, they were in front of each other. Dropping his duffel, Steve wrapped his arms around Danny hugging him tightly. He tucked his face into Danny’s hair and inhaled deeply.

“Danno, I missed you so much.”

Danny just squeaked out a “me too” while he hugged Steve. He was too busy inhaling the travel worn scent of Steve. He couldn’t get enough of the man he loved. He rubbed his face into Steve’s chest, reveling in the physical presence he had wanted so much all these months and at long last had.

They moved so their foreheads were resting against each other. Breathing the same air, not aware of the bustle of the people around them.

Danny broke their peaceful bubble by moving his face away so he could look into Steve’s eyes. “Did you find the peace you needed, babe?”

Huffing and licking his lips, Steve shook his head. His left hand held Danny’s face as his gaze never wavered. “Not yet, but I’m working on it. I know I’ll get there with therapy and what I need most.”

Danny tilted his head questioningly at Steve.

“You.”

Then Steve kissed Danny. Eyes fluttering closed, Danny returned the kiss. Like this thing they were doing happened every day.

Feeling a surge of joy, Danny broke the kiss with a smile. Smiling himself, Steve opened his eyes.

“I think I need you to repeat yourself, I didn’t quite hear you,” Danny said with a smirk as he pulled Steve down again. This time, the kiss was firmer. Danny nipped Steve's bottom lip and he opened his mouth. Always the control freak, Steve cupped Danny's face so he could move him where he wanted. He hummed contentedly as he tasted Danny. A couple times, their teeth clacked, but their tongues soothed the minor mishaps. The frantic exploration continued until they needed air.

Eyes opening and panting a bit as their lips parted, they grinned at each other goofily.

“I think we gave the airport enough of a show, babe.” Danny joked.

Steve chuckled. He sobered a bit and said, “Danny, I love you.”

Danny smiled brightly as his heart thudded happily. “I love you, too, Steve. Let’s go home.”

“And where is that exactly?” Steve asked mischievously.

“Wherever you and I are together.” Danny replied quickly.

Appeased, Steve grabbed his bag and slung it on his left shoulder. He pulled Danny under his right arm as they walked to the car.

Danny with Steve. Strong on their own. Strongest together.

FIN.

#H50 #McDanno #Hawaii Five-O #hawaii five 0 #i made this #spoilers #Fic

38 notes · View notes

bibliophilea · 3 years

Text

Just a Flesh Wound - Ch. 2

Sorry for the wait on this chapter! I’m not sure when I’ll get to the next chapter, but I do intend to phinish this phic!

For @littlebadger.

ao3 | ffn

1 >2< 3 4 5 6

Danny's not doing so well.

It took Tucker, Sam, and Danny four hours to catch those cat-snake-ghost things — tassel-whatsits, he'll have to ask Sam what they're called later — and everything would have been fine if Valerie hadn't butted in, screaming about vengeance and death and whatnot.

Now, three hours later, Danny still hasn't managed to shake Valerie off his tail, and Tucker knows he must be tiring. None of them have gotten a break in seven hours, and it'll only take one slip up before Danny's got a hole in him they can't patch up, or Valerie takes him to her secret lair to do who knows what, or turns him over to Vlad, or—

Don't think about that.

"Remind me again why I can't just shoot at her, Tucker?" Sam growls. She's got Danny and Valerie in her scope, but her finger is very pointedly not on the trigger of the ecto-bazooka.

Tucker lists off his fingers. "One, because you might hit Danny. You're good, but not that good. Two, because you might hit Valerie, and Danny wouldn't like that. Three, because you'll blow our cover, which could blow his secret identity, and who knows how she'll react to that. Four, because—"

Sam sighs in frustration. "Alright, alright, I get it, Tuck."

"Hey, you asked." He raises an eyebrow.

"I know. It's just—" she growls. "I hate that we can't do anything! We can't even direct him to safety because she keeps getting in the way! She's going to hurt him if we can't get her off his tail or distract her or something!"

Sam throws her hands in the air, then flinches as one of Valerie's shots goes wide, hitting the parking garage across the street behind them. Dust kicks up from the impact, and it rumbles ominously. She's lucky that building's condemned, Tucker thinks, and the road workers are on break — otherwise she might hurt someone when it collapses—

Wait.

"Or something," Tucker mutters, before grabbing his binoculars and searching the sky for Danny and Valerie. He catches sight of them as Valerie shoots again, this one barely missing Danny and hitting the condemned parking garage again. It kicks up dust and debris, clouding his vision before Danny darts away again.

"What did you say, Tuck?" Sam asks.

"Or something! I've got an or something!" Tucker exclaims, dropping the binoculars so they hang from his neck. He fiddles with the Fenton phone in his ear, switching it from listen to talk and listen.

"Danny, we need to collapse the building."

"What?!" Two different voices ring out — Sam's beside him, and Danny's in his ear.

"Dudes, just trust me! We collapse the building, kick up a ton of dust you can hide in—"

"Then you can transform and stay invisible while we point Valerie away from you — Tucker, you're a genius!" Sam declares.

"But guys there's — there's people in there and — ah! Shit! — we can't just—"

"Dude, chill. It's the parking garage on the corner. The building's condemned. Just fly low so Valerie shoots at the base. We'll help take it down!" Tucker turns to Sam. "You ready to use that bazooka?"

Sam's grin is feral. "I thought you'd never ask!"

Danny doesn't speak, but he dives down to street level, goading Valerie into following him behind the condemned building with a stuck out tongue. Tucker runs along the street, Sam close behind, taking a good look at the condemned parking garage for the first time. There are no glass windows save for the four corners that hold the stairs and elevators. Most of those windows are gone, now — destroyed by ghosts or by ghost hunters or by kids looking to throw rocks at something that would break without consequence. It doesn't matter now — the building itself is half collapsed, huge chunks of concrete taken out of it as if from an explosion, leaving the broken steel rods within bare. What remains could collapse at any moment, and no one save the dead dares tread there.

He's glad the building is half-collapsed already — it makes finding the main supports keeping the rest of it up that much easier. He's so glad he took that engineering class.

"See that pillar over there?" Tucker asks, pointing into the collapsed side of the parking garage. "Take that one out first."

"On it," Sam says, readying the ecto-bazooka. With careful aim, she fires. The green-tinted ammo sails through the air, exploding against the pillar with a blast louder than a firework. The parking garage rumbles, and some of the lower floors cave inwards. As the greenish smoke clears, they see that half the concrete on the support is gone, the support itself bent inwards.

Sam's grin widens, and Tucker feels himself grinning with her. After hours of fruitless brainstorming, they can finally help Danny escape Valerie's rage!

Together, they destroy more supports, Tucker guesstimating which ones would help the building cave inwards, Sam expertly taking them out one by one. Tucker hears Danny's taunts and Valerie's screams of rage in his ears, and the sounds of impact and rumbles of the parking garage when Valerie's shots hit the building. Dust begins to fill the air. And the parking garage slowly, surely, begins to topple inwards.

Tucker has never seen a building collapse before. Not in person. He expected the dust and the noise, but he never expected there to be so much of it. He turns away as the dust comes billowing towards them — rips the Fenton phone from his ear as it emits a burst of feedback from the collapsing building and curls over himself — feels Sam yank him behind a concrete barrier and they huddle together, unable to see anything beyond the dust or hear anything beyond their less than controlled demolition—

"—can't hide forever, ghost!"

Tucker doesn't know how long it's been —two minutes? Five? Ten? — when he hears Valerie's voice over the buzzing in his ears. That's not good. Valerie should be gone by now. Danny can disappear and fly as a human, but not for long, especially after seven hours of non-stop fighting. He stands up from behind the concrete barrier, and sees Sam do the same out of the corner of his eye.

"He went that way!" Sam shouts and points.

"Inviso-Bill stole my PDA!" Tucker shouts.

Valerie pauses in the air, turning to look at them. "What?"

"Ph— Inviso-Bill stole Tucker's PDA!" Sam shouts.

"He went that way!" Tucker shouts and points.

Valerie shakes her head, growling in frustration, and points at Sam. "You. Uh, citizen. Just tell me where he went."

Sam nods, covering Tucker's mouth. Tucker resists the urge to lick her hand. "He went that way." She points down the street. "Towards the beach."

Tucker pulls Sam's hand away from his mouth.

"And he stole my PDA! My poor Jessica!" He throws his face into his hands, lamenting the loss of his PDA. He remembers when Technus stole and took over his poor PDA, and he sniffles a little. Every good lie has a kernel of truth, he's learned. And it's more important than ever that he sells this lie.

"Ugh, whatever, Fo— uh, citizen, who I definitely don't know. Um. Thanks for the tip." And then Valerie flies away, down the street at first, but steadily rising until she clears the rooftops. She then changes her bearing, disappearing behind the library.

"Man, I thought she'd never leave."

Tucker and Sam jump. They look down to see Danny sitting between them, slumped against the concrete barrier. He looks wiped. His eyes are closed, head lolling against the barrier. One leg is bent, foot resting against the curb. The other is outstretched, slightly elevated onto the sidewalk. His hair, skin, and clothes are stained gray with dust — if it weren't for the sweat beading down his face, Tucker would say he looks like a ghost. Not an Amity Park ghost — rather, a ghost from one of the movies. Quiet. Unmoving. Dead.

Then Danny opens his eyes. Piercing blue reflects the sky above, before turning to Tucker and Sam. He smiles lightly, and then raises his arms. "Help me up?"

Tucker and Sam grab his arms, heaving him up to a standing position. He sways for a moment — then the leg that was outstretched buckles, and he leans hard into Tucker with a grunt.

"Woah, dude, take it easy," Tucker says, adjusting himself so he can take on Danny's weight.

"I'm fine, Tuck. It's just—" he hisses as he gingerly places his foot on the ground, leaning further into Tucker. "Just a flesh wound."

Tucker sighs. "I know, man. But we still gotta check it out." He takes a careful step with Danny onto the sidewalk. "Sam, any luck getting a ride?"

Sam nods, typing into her phone. "I'm texting Mahira — she might ask questions, but more importantly, she won't tell mom and dad."

"Cool." Tucker's about to say something else when a soft snore snuffs against his ear. He looks down to see Danny, leaning his full weight against Tucker, eyes closed and nose snoring in his ear. Tucker smirks softly, rolling his eyes, then adjusts the way he's holding Danny, scooping his friend up bridal style. Danny would never let him carry him like this were he awake. Asleep as he is, he snuggles into Tucker's sweater, pressing his cheek to Tucker's chest. Tucker's smirk softens into a smile.

When did Danny get so light?

He walks slowly, taking his time, letting Sam walk ahead of him as he stares down at his best friend. He's still covered in dust, his hair matted with it. Bruises have begun to form on his arms and face, and are peeking out from beneath his shirt. Between the tassel-whatsits and Valerie, today has done a number on him; and it's barely noon. Despite this, his face is more peaceful than Tucker's seen in a long time. Free of tension around his eyes, free of the constant frown that normally burdens his face. Danny deserves this, Tucker thinks.

Click!

Tucker looks up to see Sam holding up her camera, a smirk on her face.

"Hey!" Tucker shouts, but then stops himself when Danny stirs.

"Shush, you," Sam sings out, turning back around. "You don't want to wake him up!"

"No fair!" Tucker whines, only just loud enough for Sam to hear. Sam chuckles and smiles back at Tucker, then runs ahead to the corner where the SUV is waiting. That must be Mahira.

Tucker picks up the pace, but only just, careful not to wake Danny. He lets Sam answer Mahira's questions; he figures Sam'll fill him in on her excuses later.

He looks down again at Danny, and can't help the small smile as Danny snores against him.

Sleep well, buddy.

42 notes · View notes

geekgirles · 3 years

Text

Your Heart

Chapter 5 -- Research

Word Count: 12429

READ ON AO3

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Tucker complained for the umpteenth time.

After realising the only way to end his regular meetings with Lady Arcana once and for all would be finding information on the portals she could use to help him close them, Danny took a very-Jazz-like decision; to immerse himself in countless moldy, old books in search for answers.

Only he dragged Tucker and his sister along to put an end to the torture sooner. A decision which, whereas Jazz encouraged wholeheartedly, Tucker was none too pleased with.

“Oh, quit your whining, Tucker.” Jazz admonished from the floor, a few volumes piled up around her. “Every time you complain, it’s precious time we’re wasting. Maybe I don’t mind being holed up here reading with you, but something tells me you’d much rather be tinkering with your PDA than doing this.”

Annoyed by Jazz’s accurate observation, Tucker, who was lying down on his bed, set the book he was reading down on his lap. “I’m just saying, a quick Internet search would give us many more results in a matter of seconds. If you’re worried about wasting time, then I think spending hours scanning for even the smallest piece of witch-related trivia is ten times more time-consuming.”

But Jazz wasn’t going to relent any time soon. “We already tried things your way, Tucker. Remind me again how much useful information we found online?” When her question was met by silence, she smirked, focusing again on the book she had open on the floor in front of her. “Thought so.”

“Okay, so the first few results were all about conspiratorial nutcases claiming the witches are actually aliens from a faraway galaxy and that what we call ‘magic’ is really superior technology our tiny, human minds can’t understand,” he paused to breathe, “but those were just the first few articles! I’m sure if we keep on looking, we’ll find something useful.”

“Do I really have to remind you that the most useful thing we found was a Satanist group’s website? I don’t know about you, but I’m not exactly looking forward to joining them anytime soon.”

Leaning back against his bed’s headboard, the techno geek crossed his arms, feeling defensive. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Will you two just stop?” Danny finally had enough. He slammed the book he’d been reading shut before setting it down on his desk, where his own pile of books lay. Leaning back on his chair, one leg over his knee, he crossed his arms as he sent a stern look at his sister and best friend; the kind of look a father would give when scolding his misbehaving children.

Even though they had legitimate reasons to be cranky at each other, a selfish part of him thought the only one who could really act out of line was him. Tucker and Jazz tended to forget what really was on the line. True; if they didn’t find a solution to the random ghost portals soon, that could lead to severe repercussions on both dimensions, and dealing with Lady Arcana was both dangerous and nerve-racking in every sense of the word.

But the real danger came from within.

Although Danny had tried to limit their use as much as possible, the Witch Queen’s presence demanded he wore the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire in hopes of forcing the sorceress to think twice before double-crossing them. But the mere use of the two mystical items was far more terrifying than anything the entire witch clan could have thrown at him.

There was something inherently...evil encased in the ring and crown. Danny was sure of it. Damn, he could feel it with every fiber of his being. Even before donning the all-powerful objects for the first time during his coronation, the moment he held them after stripping them off of Pariah Dark’s form, they were already calling out to him.

And the most horrifying thing was that he wanted to heed their call. The relics promised infinite power to whoever was in possession of them. When, ironically, the dreaded things took possession of their wearer! After a brief moment of doubt where he almost fell into temptation and gave in, Danny understood wearing the ring and crown meant the total enslavement of his soul.

Ever since then, he lived in fear of succumbing to temptation and letting their sinister energy consume him. Whenever he had no choice but to wear the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire, Danny found himself fighting an uphill battle against the hypnotising pull of power emanating from them. It was more tempting than using his powers to get back at Dash for all the wedgies. It was more inviting than dating Valerie, regardless of the very real possibility of dying by her hand. It was more dangerous than accepting to work with Vlad, who foolishly coveted the very same torture he endured every time he put those two horrid artefacts on.

Because it was a literal deal with the devil; power in exchange of his soul.

And to think he had to endure all that every time he met up with the queen of the two-faced creatures responsible for such evil in the first place, just to convince her against doing anything foolish...It was irony at its finest.

With gentle spins of his chair, Danny kept looking alternatively at Tucker and Jazz, who were blissfully unaware of his inner musings, as he talked to each of them. First was Tucker. “Tuck, I know you’ve considered books a waste of time ever since we plugged you into the Cramtastic Mark 5 to break Ember’s spell, and I’m sorry for dragging you into this, but Jazz’s brought all these books from the library and we need as much information as possible.”

He then turned to his sister, who was laid facing down on the floor. “Jazz, same thing goes for you. Except the ‘book-hating' part,” he hastily added, “you know as well as I do that if there’s someone who can find anything on the Internet, it's Tucker. Just, give him time.”

His two teammates exchanged glances before giving up with an eye roll. “Whatever,” they said in unison before getting back to reading.

Danny wasn’t quite finished, though. “There’s also the fact that I’m not even sure we’ll find anything useful in the first place. I mean, what Lady Arcana needs is either an explanation on what’s causing the portals to manifest, or a spell that can counter it. And I highly doubt we’ll find that sort of information in books from the public library.”

“Maybe if they were from Hogwarts…” Tucker snickered at his own joke. When he noticed the twin glare the siblings were sending him, he sobered up. “Sorry.”

Jazz rolled her eyes as she changed her position from lying down to sitting up, cross-legged. “That doesn’t mean we won’t find anything useful, Danny. If anything, just learning more about the witches should be of help when dealing with them, right?”

The halfa sighed. “In theory. But Tucker’s right; we’ve been reading for hours and we haven’t found anything useful, or even that we didn’t already know of.”

“Thank you!” Tucker deadpanned as he clapped his hands sarcastically.

Danny ignored him in favour of continuing. “I mean, what’s to learn about them? Their background is completely irrelevant to the issue at hand. Knowing of the Salem trials isn’t going to help me prevent disaster from happening!”

“And don’t forget we don’t even know how to tell true facts apart from naysay.” Tucker pointed out, a finger raised in the air as if that’d give more credibility to his point.

But Jazz insisted. “All the more reason to find out more about them! For instance, Danny, what did you know about witches before meeting this Lady Arcana?”

Her brother gave a noncommittal shrug. “Only what Frostbite told me and what I read in the pages I found from Sojourn’s missing journalーand no, I’m not going to let you read them, Jazz; it’s too dangerous. Besides, I don’t even have them anymore,” he was quick to add, recognising the inquisitive look on his sister’s face all too well.

Annoyed at how well her brother knew her, and at Tucker’s ill-concealed snickers, the aspiring psychologist turned her head away in a huff. “Fine, keep your sister away from fascinating topics. It’s not like I’ve been keeping your secret for years; even from you.” She punctuated with a meaningful look.

If the look on Danny’s face was any indication, they’d had that same conversation too many times before. “Jazz, careful; you know emotionally blackmailing me will get you nowhere. It’ll make me want to keep more things away from you.”

The redhead stood up and got closer to him. With her arms crossed, she used her brother’s seated position to tower over him for once, since she had long lost the ability to look over his shoulder once Danny finally hit his growth spurt. “And you know trying to play hero and keep me away is going to solve nothing. If anything, it’s only going to make me want to help you even more.”

Watching the siblings from the comfortable distance his bed provided him, Tucker knew things would only get nasty if he let the tension escalate from there. He let out a wolf whistle, effectively capturing the Fenton kids' attention. “Wow. You know you two spend too much time together when you start using the other’s methods to get what you want.”

Danny and Jazz furrowed their brow in confusion. “What do you mean?” They asked in unison.

Changing his position so his back was resting against his wall rather than his bed, which also allowed him to easily look them both in the eye, their friend just shrugged nonchalantly. He wasn’t going to say anything else; their attention was no longer directed at each other and that was enough. “Nothing. Hey, how about a break?”

“A break?” Danny echoed, incredulous. “Didn’t we just argue about wasting time? Tuck, we can’t take a break now!”

Seeing where Tucker was getting at, and that he had a very good point, Jazz sighed. Turning to Danny, she put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Tucker is right. We’ve been at it for a few hours now. We’d better take a breather and continue later, when our minds are sharper.”

Danny was about to protest when he noticed their matching expressions. They were both tired after doing nothing but searching for clues for hours and bickering with each other. If anyone deserved a break, it was them. And as his own exhaustion finally kicked in, he realised, so did he.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s stop for a while.”

Satisfied, Jazz gave her little brother some space as she flopped down on his bed. “So, Tuck.” When his head snapped at the sound of her voice calling his name, she continued. “How’s your latest lady friend doing?”

It took the African American young man a moment to understand who she was talking about. “You mean Camille?”

“If that’s her name, then yes.”

“Oh, we don’t hang out anymore.”

“What?” Jazz gasped. “Why?”

Tucker looked at her uneasily. Danny, on his part, remained quiet, just listening to their conversation. “Uh, no offence, Jazz but...I don’t feel comfortable talking about this with my best friend’s sister; close as we may be.”

That made her frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s just...there’s things you don’t talk about with just anyone. And what happens between you and the people you choose to fool around with is one of them. I mean, how would you feel if my mum tried meddling into your love life?”

She just made a derisive sound at the back of her throat. “Excuse me? That is completely different!”

“It is not!”

“Oh, really?” Jazz put her hands on her hips, an eyebrow raised. “Please. Tucker, I’m Danny’s older sister, not our mother! Moreso, I’m the eldest by two years,” she put two fingers up to stress her point, “it’s not like I babysat you or cleaned your diapers. It can’t be that embarrassing!”

Refusing to say any more, Tucker just fell backwards on his bed, arms crossed. From his chair, Danny could only roll his eyes good-naturedly at their banter.

After a beat of silence, Jazz tried again. “Was it your issues with commitment? Did she want more but you got scared?”

Exasperated, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Then, he turned to his best friend. “You can intervene whenever you like, you know?”

Danny just leaned back on his chair, his arms folded behind his head and an easy grin on his face. “Nah, I’m good.”

Abruptly getting up from his bed, unamused, Tucker walked over to his desk and turned his computer on. His back turned to the Fenton siblings, he started fidgeting with a program he’d just opened. He had no idea what to do with it, but he figured it’d be better than Jazz butting in on his love life.

“So...is that it?” she ventured hopefully.

Groaning loudly, he rubbed his eyes before fully facing the current thorn in his side. “Has it ever crossed your mind that the reason why I don’t feel comfortable talking about this with you is because you’re going to try and psychoanalyse me?” Seeing as there was no reply, Tucker took it as a sign that she’d finally let it go, so he turned to face the screen.

...only to hear her whisper to Danny. “How much on them having trouble in bed?”

His face burning hot in embarrassment, Tucker slammed his head against the desk, startling the two other people in the room. At least Danny would never betray him, would he? No, he wouldn’t. It totally went against, like, fifty rules in the Bro Code.

Unfortunately, Danny was having far too much fun seeing Tucker squirm under Jazz’s scrutinising, psychological curiosity. “Well, from what I’ve heard…”

Oh, no! No way in Hell was that traitor selling him out like that! If Danny wanted war, he’d give him war, Bro Code be damned! Getting up with startling speed, Tucker yelled loud enough to drown Danny’s voice out. “Danny’s met a girl!”

Both siblings blinked slowly at him before simultaneously screeching, “What!?” Although it was impossible to tell which of the two was more bewildered by the revelation.

In an instant, Jazz was on her brother like a vulpture on an animal carcass. “Danny, is that true? You have a girlfriend?” Suddenly, she looked much more offended than dumbfounded. “And you didn’t tell me?!”

“No!” he quickly denied, before all but flying from his chair and going over to his so-called best friend to smack him on the arm. Hard. “Tucker, what the fuck?!”

“Language!” Jazz admonished.

“Where did you get the idea that I got a girlfriend? What, you’ve listened to me talking about how I fear for my life whenever I’m in the same room as the short-tempered, curse-inducing, infuriating Queen of the Witches of Amity Park and you obviously thought, Oh, man. That’s true love right there and then?!”

“Well, that definitely didn’t stop you from crushing on Valerie back in high school…” Jazz pointed out meekly.

Seeing Danny’s eyes glow green for a fraction of a second was enough to make Tucker sweat bullets. “Jazz, you’re not helping!” He squeaked. “And, dude, you’re freaking me out a little with the way you’re burning holes in my skull. At this point, I really wouldn’t put it past you to have suddenly developed heat-vision or something…”

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Danny finally got out of his best friend’s personal space. He was still pissed, though. “Talk.”

Straightening his clothes, Tucker rolled his eyes. “My, aren’t you sensitive today.”

“Well, duh! You just said I have a girlfriend! Could you be so kind as to tell me who so I don’t forget our anniversary or, I don’t know, her face!?”

The techno geek made a ‘pfft’ sound with his mouth, shrugging the notion off with a motion of his hand. “I never said you had a girlfriend. My exact words were ‘Danny’s met a girl.’ If you two are too obsessed with your love life to pay close attention to what other people say, that’s not my problem.”

“Okay, so who’s this girl?” Jazz asked, still curious.

“Yes, please, enlighten us, oh, King Tuck.” Danny quipped sarcastically.

Tucker frowned, not appreciating the quip at his past mistake, but he spoke nonetheless. “Dude, it 's Sam.”

There was a beat of silence where brother and sister just stared at him before Danny whispered, shell-shocked, “Sam?”

Jazz, on her part, was both shocked and confused. “Wait, who’s Sam?”

He would’ve smacked him right then and there if it weren’t for his best friend having ghost powers he could blast him with. “Well, duh! Dude, have you or have you not met a girl named Sam recently? Because, I’m warning you, if you thought she was a guy, I’m telling on you. I don’t care if she beats your ass; you’d deserve it.”

“Ooh! A girl capable of kicking my baby brother's butt? Now I gotta know who she is! Also, Tucker, language.” The aqua-eyed girl half-heartedly scolded him, before her expression turned into a pensive one as she redirected her gaze to Danny “...are you sure you don’t have a type, though?”

“Sam and Valerie are nothing alike!” Danny exclaimed, throwing his arms up at his sides. Then he turned to Tucker, his hands now curled into fists out of sheer annoyance. “And of course I know she’s a girl. I just don’t understand how on Earth you’d come to the conclusion that I’m into her or something.”

Not for the first time, Tucker rolled his eyes before getting up from his chair and draping his arm around Danny’s shoulders. “And, again, I never said you were. I just said you’d met a girl…” Danny didn’t like that mischievous glint in his eyes one bit. “It just so happens I know you two enough to know you’d immediately assume I was talking about a lady friend, which would then make you forget all about moi.” Tucker explained with a cheeky grin. “And, lo and behold, it worked!”

Danny narrowed his eyes on him. He hated it when Tucker used their everlasting friendship to play him like a violin. Jazz, on the other hand, hated having her queries ignored. Taking a deep breath, she raised her voice to deafening levels. “Hello? Can anyone tell me who this ‘Sam’ is?”

“Agh!” Both halfa and techno geek exclaimed, taken aback. Nursing his ear, the youngest Fenton glared at his sister. “You're louder than my Ghostly Wail, you know that?”

“I can attest to that.” Tucker muttered, equally annoyed.

Both sighed in defeat when Jazz limited herself to arching an eyebrow at them with her hands, curled into fists at her sides, stubborn as ever to get her answers. “Jazz, it’s no big deal. Sam is just a friend of Tucker’s who knows an awful lot about the occult and such. He thinks she might be able to help me with you-know-who.” He explained as he sat down on his bed next to her, Tucker following suit.

“Wait, Tucker is friends with a girl that’s not me?”

The aforementioned boy took offence at that. “Is it really that weird to see me hanging out with a girl because we’re friends and nothing more?”

The Fenton kids just stared at him blankly. “Dude, you literally hit on anything with a skirt. Remember the drag queen?”

The techno geek spluttered at that, while Jazz couldn’t help but chortle. “Dude, you promised to never bring that up again!”

Danny only chuckled at his best friend’s flushed face. “I don’t think you’re in any position to complain, Tuck. After all, you did break that poor queen’s heart...”

“Why, you!” Face burning hot in embarrassment, Tucker threw himself at Danny, ready to strangle him, ability to blast him to smithereens be damned! His own body reacting instinctively, Danny lay down on his back as he grabbed his best friend’s wrists. The two would’ve started roughhousing hadn’t it been for Jazz getting caught in between.

“Hey! Stop it you two!” With a superhuman strength that could only be attributed to an older sibling separating her little brothers, Jazz shoved Tucker off of Danny, while she kept the latter down with a hand on his chest. A few minutes passed before the two calmed down. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she turned to Tucker, trying to keep the original conversation going. “So this Sam could be of help?”

Willing his own breath to steady, Tucker nodded. “Yeah. Sam’s a Goth, so she’s very interested in all that. In fact, she’s been of help before.”

Danny’s interest perked at that. “What do you mean?”

“Remember when I’d come up with a solution to defeat certain ghosts this past year? Like Medusa, or that giant Hydra, and such? That was all Sam!”

“Now that you mention it, it did take me by surprise that you’d suddenly know what a hydra even is…”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence…” he quipped, before shaking his head to keep himself focused. “Anyway, whenever those ghosts appeared, I’d remember Sam talking about her latest mythology-related acquisition she bought from her favourite bookstore. So I just called her up, used the very convenient ghost in case to ask about its weakness and, ta-da! You’d have your way to beat them!” He exclaimed, proudly puffing up his chest. After a moment, he deflated, another thought in his mind. “The only creature she never told me about are unicorns, though. I don’t know why.”

“Maybe it throws off her entire dark, cynical persona.” Jazz guessed. Becoming Goth was a common coping mechanism for when people lost someone dear. For all she knew, this Sam could’ve lost a loved one and abandoned all things traditionally cute and girly as a way to put up a strong, undaunted façade, constantly exposing herself to the darker side of life in an attempt to grow desensitised to such things.

“Maybe,” the bespectacled young man shrugged, “but if you ever meet her, don’t go around saying things like that. Somehow, I doubt she’d appreciate having her entire identity picked out and analysed.”

As Tucker and Jazz kept on bantering with each other, Danny’s thoughts were elsewhere. If what Tucker was saying was true and Sam had indeed marked the difference between victory and defeat during those ghost attacks, then it really would be better to have her by his side.

Despite his years fighting ghosts and what he’d learned from Frostbite, his knowledge was limited to the Ghost Zone, which was why the presence of mythological or legendary ghosts tended to demand more of him than, say, facing off against Technus, or Johnny 13. Magical artefacts and abilities fell under that category, as well.

Aside from the lack of portal-creating and visits to the Ghost Zone, the witches, on the contrary, seemed to be knowledgeable of ghosts. And that put him at a clear disadvantage he couldn’t afford. But if Sam also happened to know about witches, maybe even partake in rituals for the sake of it, then having her near would be for the best. He would only have to make sure to keep a close eye on her in case the witches found out and went after her in retaliation.

And also, deep down, he was sort of looking forward to meeting her again.

...............

The seemingly never ending corridors were doing nothing to alleviate her already suffering nerves. Despite the velvet-carpeted floor that would other times muffle her heavy steps, she now felt as if every step she took resonated throughout the manor like the screeching tiles of a wooden floor. From the rich, maroon walls were hanging the portraits of every astounding witch their clan had ever witnessed; from queens and Council members, to especially adept sorceresses or even heroines who had saved their sisters one way or another. All those women she usually looked up to for guidance in difficult times now seemed to be silently judging her with their cold, unforgiving eyes.

She walked in complete silence, afraid to disturb the peace if she were to utter a word. After discovering the grimoire she used to travel to the Ghost Zone wouldn’t be of any help in her mission, Sam was blindly following the beginning of a hunch; the spark of an idea whose outcome she still knew nothing of. But, even if she wasn’t sure what she was looking for, it was all she had.

Sam had no choice but to follow that inkling.

Hurriedly trying to keep up with her, Star and Paulina were close behind. Once again, their position within their Queen’s inner circle allowed them to understand Sam’s thought process better than most. Only they knew the true reason behind the Queen’s unprompted visit to their clan’s archives.

“Your Majesty, what do you expect to find inside thー?” Before Star could so much as finish her question, Sam interrupted her.

“Indeed, Star. I would appreciate a warm bubble bath with deadly nightshade leaves.” The queen said, not even stopping to look back at her ladies-in-waiting.

To any other person, that cryptic message would have meant nothing but the typical request one would expect a queen to ask her personal maids of. But Paulina and Star knew better. Asking for deadly nightshade was Sam’s way of telling them to keep whatever she was up to a secret. By asking Star for a deadly nightshade bubble bath, she was instructing them that absolutely no one should find out about the true reason behind her visit to the archives.

Exchanging knowing glances with Paulina, the blonde lowered her head slightly, fully aware that her Queen was watching her from the corner of her eye. “Yes, your Majesty.”

And with that everything that had to be said was shared between them.

Time was of the essence.

Aside from the evident danger she faced every time she travelled to the Infinite Realms, there was the added possibility of being spotted by humans, regardless of how far away from civilization their meeting spot was. If anyone ever took notice of the three mysterious figures fraternising with ghosts, Amity Park’s greatest known threat, questions would soon arise.

And whenever humans had questions, they turned to the so-called experts on the matter for help. While Sam wasn’t sure those incompetent Guys In White even suspected their existence, she still wouldn’t put it past them to investigate for the sake of burning tax money in some new toys. Those greedy, government puppets… Worst of all, if they took a genuine interest in her kind, they might as well be done for, and not necessarily because the GIW were good at their job…

If word got out that witches were real and living among them, the citizens could get scared. And whenever humans got scared, especially if it was of things they couldn’t quite explain or understand, that fear turned into aggression. If they kept wasting any more time, one day she’d open her door to find herself face to face with an angry mob.

And to think it’d all be because of a group of incompentent ghost hunters who couldn’t even drive away the very same treacherous creatures responsible for her people’s need for secrecy in the first place...it was irony at its finest.

However, despite the spike of anxiety in her chest, Sam couldn’t help but go back to her last visit to the Ghost Zone. Phantom’s attempts at dissipating the tension had been, as much as she hated to admit it, a welcomed thing. And yet, it was a little unnerving to learn the Ghost King shared her views on formality and the power of intimacy, because it made him look more human than she would ever be comfortable with.

In all fairness, it was difficult to imagine Phantom talking like anything but his usual, cocky self in the first place. From what little exchanges the news broadcasts had been able to catch on camera during the years, the white-haired spirit tended to get overly familiar with his opponents, getting under their skin with puns or witty comebacks thrown at their expense. Still, as unusual as it was, Sam couldn’t help but feel that, perhaps, it would’ve been better to keep on using their respective honorifics. Because Phantom addressing her like he would any other misbehaving ghost, like she’d seen him do dozens of times over the years, somehow made it all the more...real. She truly was talking to the infamous Ghost King on her own volition.

That thought alone scared her more than she’d ever be willing to admit.

Before Sam could dwell on the matter any longer, a grating, shrill voice snapped her out of her thoughts. A voice she knew all too well and would do just about anything to never hear again unless it was absolutely necessary.

“Sammy-kins!”

Stopping in her tracks, eye twitching in annoyance, the lavender-eyed girl forced a smile to materialise on her face as she slowly turned around to face the mother of all monsters. Her own. “Hello, Mother.” She forced out.

Pamela Manson was an average witch; the only thing stellar about her was her ability to distract humans with her lavish parties and over-the-top socialite persona. A woman obsessed with social status and appearances, Sam’s mother constantly got on her case due to her own disregard for the very things Pamela lived for.

Mother and daughter were opposites in almost every aspect.

Whereas Sam prided herself in her individuality and ability to go unnoticed unless she truly wished to make her presence known, Pamela was obsessed with blending in a way that would always draw all eyes to her.

Sam believed in standing up for a change, without fear of taking big steps as long as they led her to a better world. Pamela considered things to be fine as they were, and that the only changes that should be implemented were small, insignificant ones; such as her daughter’s fashion sense.

While Sam was a rather cynical individual who still cared about everyone deep down, her mother was preppy and optimistic, but her aspirations were limited to what could benefit her and her family.

But what truly set them apart was Sam’s insistence on being inconspicuous to the human eye; her coven’s anonymity her top priority. As opposed to Pamela who, had she been queen, would’ve accidentally exposed their secrets in her first week after being crowned; tops.

In all fairness, it wasn’t that Pamela didn’t care for their clan; it was just that she couldn’t resist flaunting what, she believed, made her better than everyone else.

And, right now, she believed her daughter’s manners could be much better. “What’s with the cold greeting, Sammy-kins? We haven’t seen much of each other in over a week and that’s how you treat me?”

On second thought, Sam much preferred her chances against an angry mob over spending five minutes in the same room as her mother. “Sorry, Mother, but you caught me in the middle of something important and…”

“What could possibly be more important than what I’m about to tell you?” Pamela questioned, her hands on her hips.

“Perhaps finding a way to save two dimensions or, at the very least, our people, but you’re right, Mum, what was it that you wanted to tell me?”, was what the raven-haired witch wished she could’ve said, but instead she opted for, “And what is it that you have to tell me?”

Instead of answering her daughter, however, Pamela directed an expectant look at her two ladies-in-waiting who, upon noticing her steely glare on them, immediately straightened up before lowering their heads in submission. “Greetings, your Ladyship.” Paulina and Star droned, their heads low.

Although Pamela was never queen herself, as mother of the current leader of the clan she was to be regarded with respect. A fact the woman would constantly revel in and fully take advantage of. Smiling in contentment, she sighed. “Ah, much better. Now, Sammy-kins, I was thinking we could take some time away from your schedule to have a little chat on your wardrobe choices?”

Ugh, not that again. Ignoring her mother’s offended gasp, Sam turned on her heel to make her way, once again, to her original destination. Star and Paulina hurrying up to leave ‘her Ladyship’ behind and keep up with their queen after flashing her mother a pair of matching sheepish smiles

Unfortunately, the one thing Sam seemed to have inherited from her mother was her stubbornness. Quickening her own pace, the clicking of her high heels behind her haunting Sam even in her dreams, Pamela caught up with them in a surprisingly short amount of time. Having no choice but to breathlessly talk to her daughter at the same time as she tried keeping up with her would not be enough to get her to give up on her pursuit.

“Seeing as we have much more important matters to discuss, I shall gracefully ignore your previous insolence.” Luckily for Sam, her mother missed the way she rolled her eyes at her. “I know this...Gore style of yoursー.”

“It’s ‘Goth’, Mother…” Sam corrected her, but her efforts fell on deaf ears.

“ーis just your way of rebelling against the world because things don’t go your way, but don’t you think enough is enough? You’ve been dressing like a mortician since you were twelve!”

“If you’re done patronising me and the way I choose to present myself to the worldーwhich, not only have you insulted in every possible way but, allow me to remind you, is not just a phaseー, I really do have more important matters to attend to.”

And with that, she sped up past her mother. It should’ve been the end of that conversation, but Pamela always had to have the last word. “But what about the clan? Don’t you think it’s selfish to compromise us like that?”

That stopped the Witch Queen dead in her tracks, the unexpected stop causing Paulina and Star to tumble back a few steps. Once they registered what Pamela had said, their blood ran cold; the stiffness in Sam’s posture only confirmed their unspoken fears:

Sam’s mother had just crossed a line.

Fists clenched so tightly at her sides she could’ve drawn blood, her teeth gritting in aggravation, Sam hissed, not even turning around to face her mother. “What did you just say?”

Brushing her daughter’s anger off as just another tantrum, Pamela calmly walked over to where she stood, looking over her handmaidens’ shoulders. Resting a palm on Sam’s shoulder, a hand that, although meant as comforting, came out as condescending, mocking; the older witch spoke up. “I’m just saying, you’re always advocating for our anonymity, yet you seem to ignore that people will immediately associate your obvious, stereotypically witchy outfits with real-life witchcraft. All that black and those dark colours, the ripped fabric, the metal ornaments… Sammy, don’t you see? That’s like wearing a sign saying ‘I’m a witch! Come and lynch me!’”

Taking advantage of her turned face, Sam narrowed her eyes on her mother. She dressed like a WASP housewife from the 50’s when she was a Jewish woman living in the 21st centuryーshe was in absolutely no position to criticise her looks!

How dare she? How dare she?! Using her duty to protect her people against her just to get her to wear some frilly abomination because she couldn’t fathom the idea that her daughter would want to be her own person?

It was moments like these that Sam missed Grandma Ida the most. Her grandma would’ve guided her in her darkest hours, giving her useful advice to approach the situation, but never making decisions for her, letting her live and learn instead! Grandma Ida would’ve never tried to use her to push some personal agenda on the clan.

But Grandma Ida was gone, and Pamela was there to stay.

As insulted and, although she’d never let it show, hurt as Sam was, going to the archives took priority. Stowing her conversation with her mother for another time as she resumed her march down the hallsーpreferably when she’d be alone in her roomーSam shrugged her off the best way she knew; through biting sarcasm. “Oh, please. If I were nearly as ‘obvious’ or ‘stereotypically witchy’ as you say, Mother, I’d decorate this place after the Sedlec Ossuary.”

Pamela furrowed her brow in confusion as she, too, resumed her walk. “What does that even mean?”

“She’s talking about a Czech chapel fully decorated with bones and skulls.” Star helpfully supplied.

Paulina, on the contrary, shuddered in disgust. “Ugh, I’d rather not. I’d feel like I’m always being watched…”

Star tilted her head to the side. “How? Skulls don’t have eyes.”

Ignoring the handmaidens, Pamela opened up her mouth to speak when a raised hand from her daughter, who had abruptly halted, stopped her from even getting a word in. “As lovely as catching up with you has been, Mother,” Sam started, voice laced with sarcasm, “I’m afraid I must go. I have important matters to attend to, as I already told you, that I must take care of, in private.” She stressed before turning the doorknob of the large door before her and walking inside, swiftly letting her bewildered mother out after she all but slammed the door shut in her face.

Leaning her back against the door, Sam let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. No matter how much time passed, her mother would always be a she-demon worse than any ghost. God forbid Phantom ever met her; if he were to take a page out of her book, Sam would personally burn herself at the stake.

“Is Pamela too much for you?” A sultry voice coaxed her out of her thoughts.

Opening up her eyes, Sam could feel the relieved smile forming on her face at the sight of the witch she most wanted to see at the moment. “Delilah.” She breathed out as she separated herself from the door, walking over to her friend to grab her hands in hers. “You have no idea.” Sighing dramatically, she let her head fall on the crook of the shapeshifter’s shoulder, eliciting a chuckle from her.

“Oh, I don’t need to.” She said, gently patting her queen’s head. “Just by looking at you I can tell; you look like you’ve suddenly lost ten years of your life!”

“Make that twenty,” Sam grumbled.

Separating herself from her leader, their hands still holding each other, the turquoise-eyed sorceress got to the point. “Well, what brings you here? As much as I love your visits, I thought you’d be busy with your little escapes to the Ghost Zone?”

Sam averted her gaze, the wooden floor suddenly much more interesting than a few seconds ago. “It’s precisely because of that that I’m here.”

“Oh?” Delilah tilted her head, slightly. “Okay...So, what are you here for, then?”

To her bewilderment, her queen’s eyes continuously darted from one place to another, as if expecting to be ambushed any minute now. “Are we alone?”

An odd question, but not necessarily a bad one. Putting her fingers on her chin in thought, the Council member tried to remember if she’d seen anyone that day. “Hm, I think Stephanie might be somewhere around here, engrossed in a book. But you know her, it’d be easier to get me to leave the archives than not seeing that girl with her nose deep in a book.”

Stephanie was probably with them. That was not a bad thing. Stephanie ought to find out sooner or later. Wringing her hands nervously, Sam willed her eyes to look at Delilah’s own curious turquoise ones. “I need your help with something.”

That caught her attention. “My help?” Sam nodded. “My, Sam, you’re starting to worry me.” Delilah admitted as she got closer to the Goth, her hand hovering over her shoulder but never close enough to actually rest atop of it, afraid that the sudden contact would startle her. It was unusual to see her so suspicious of everything around her. Maybe… “Did the ghosts do anything? Are we going to war?”

That seemed to snap the younger witch out of whatever she was going through. She didn’t lower her guard, though. “No, no. We’re not going to war.” She shook her head as she let Delilah gently guide her to another section of the archives. “But in order to avoid just that I might need to do something crazy…”

Delilah wrinkled her nose at that. “Something crazy? You’re not going to marry that Ghost Punk, are you?”

Startled, Sam jerked away from her touch, shuddering in discomfort. Where would she get such a ridiculous idea? She and Danny Phantom? She almost wanted to laugh. Instead, she let out a derisive sound from the back of her throat. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“So, what is it then? I’m sorry, Sam, but you’re not making any sense right now.” The shapeshifter insisted. “If we’re not going to war, and you’re not going to marry the Ghost King, what do you need me for?” Taking a few steps, she got closer to the young monarch, their faces mere inches apart as she tried looking for answers in her amethyst orbs. “What could be so serious that you’re so unnerved, Sam?”

Delilah’s intense gaze made her squirm, but she had a point. She couldn’t expect her to help her, no questions asked. For instance, she wasn’t just the best shapeshifter of the clan, she was also a Council member, and the archives guardian. She was the one tasked with keeping their people’s most precious treasure, their history and knowledge, safe. And considering what she was gonna ask of her, Delilah was in her right to know exactly what was going through her head.

Steeling herself for what was to come, Sam straightened her spine, returning the intensity of the older witch’s gaze in earnest. “I need you to grant me access to a certain type of book.”

Delilah’s posture relaxed. “Is that it? Why didn’t you say so sooner? Sure, just tell me what you’re looking for and I’ll let you take a lookー.”

“I mean,” Sam cut her off, “I need you to grant me permission to take the book with me, outside of the manor...and into the Ghost Zone.” Her voice wavered when she muttered the last part.

“Oh...I see...” The guardian’s expression immediately sobered up. She cleared her throat, awkwardly. “And, what type of book are you looking for?”

Now things were going to get really ugly. “I need a spellbook detailing everything we know about the Ghost Zone, specifically, its portals.”

For a while, Delilah just stared at her, almost unblinkingly. The good news was she didn’t appear angry or outraged as Sam had predicted, the bad news, however, was that her empty, unreadable expression was much worse. At least she’d have known what she was thinking had she been yelling at her for her idiocy; questioning her mental health. But as it was, Sam was almost as lost as her.

After what felt like an eternity, Delilah finally found her voice. “So you…” she quieted down, trying to find the words. “You want to take one of our most sacred texts to the Ghost Zone?”

Sam winced. Somehow, it sounded way worse when she said it like that. “I know it’s asking for too much…”

“Saying that’s an understatement wouldn’t even begin to cover it.” The Council member scoffed. “Seriously, Margaret would have a cow! And don’t get me started on Wilhelmina…”

“I know!” Sam was quick to reassure her. She was perfectly aware what she was asking of her might be a little excessive, but she wasn’t completely delusional! She knew just what kind of reaction their fellow Council members would have... “I know, but...the only way to ensure our people’s safety is helping Phantom. And he needs help closing numerous unstable portals that are suddenly opening. I thought the book I’d been using to get to the Infinite Realms would have the answers, but its contents were thoroughly underwhelming.”

Just like she did in Phantom’s lair, Sam got the spellbook out of her skirt before handing it to the guardian. In turn, she inspected its pages, concluding that, indeed, the book hadn’t much to offer. “Please, Delilah, you know I would never ask this of you if I didn’t think it’s our only hope.”

Sam wasn’t one to plead. The young Council member knew this better than anyone. She was headstrong and determined; the entire clan knew there wasn’t much that could be done to dissuade her once her mind was made up. Margaret herself found it to be both a blessing and a curse, while Wilhelmina thought it was a curse. Period. And Delilah...

Delilah prayed to all things above her that she wasn’t about to make a mistake. Sighing in defeat, she flashed Sam a small grin, earning herself a triumphant smile in return. Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, she motioned for her queen to follow her with a slight jerk of her index finger. “Come with me, your Majesty. I know just the thing.”

Sighing in relief, Sam allowed her eyes to wander around the manor’s archives. She really couldn’t blame Stephanie for loving the place to the point of practically making it her second homeーthe sight was breathtaking.

The circular room, surrounded by large panel windows, located right below the Council Room, which put it in the three-story manor’s second story, was one of the best examples of a Pocket Dimension Spell put to good use. Countless shelves filled to the brim with colourful, leather-bound books went on as far as reached the eye; hanging proudly from the ceiling, the arrow-shaped banners with her clan’s signature colour and emblemーa black rose over a royal purple backgroundーadorned the room; leaning against the shelves, golden ladders could be seen moving on their own accord; which was almost as impressive as the floating books that flew from one place to another by flapping their two covers like an eagle would flap its wings.

Walking through the numerous aisles, letting herself be, one again, amazed by the sight, Sam caught a familiar figure from the corner of her eye. Turning her head to the source, she found Stephanie Baker, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her back against a shelf’s lateral plank, an incredibly dense book perched on her lap.

Sensing someone’s eyes on her, no doubt, Stephanie lifted her head up and away from her book, before a grin was plastered on her face at the sight of her queen. Her enthusiastic wave was answered by Sam’s much more subdued one, alongside a small chuckle. “She’ll never change; she’s at her happiest when surrounded by books,” Sam mused to herself.

She and Delilah kept walking in silence, but with each step she took, the Goth couldn’t help but furrow her brow, anxiously. They were getting further and further away from the archives’ hot spot, the zone with the most activity disappearing in the distance until she almost couldn’t make it out anymore. Just where was she taking her?

Her question was answered when her guide halted abruptly in front of the wall. An empty space that, unlike the other walls encasing the archives, wasn’t even decorated by a portrait of one of the previous guardians. Not sure what to expect, Sam tilted her head to the side, speechless. “Uh...Delilah?”

But Delilah didn’t answer. Instead, she turned her back on her and extended her hands, palms open, in front of her. “Clavis mysteria!”, she chanted, her carefully coiffed onyx braid dancing around her, as if swayed by a sudden strong breeze. From her palms emanated a green fog that, as Sam could only look on in awe, speechless for an entirely different reason; seemed to open the wall in half, the resulting, uneven, wooden dents making way for it.

An eternity or a few minutes could’ve passed, and Sam would be willing to believe anything she was told, when the green fog manifested again, carrying a rather large object with it. When the Witch Queen realised what it was, she could only gasp in astonishment.

Levitating before them was a royal blue, leather-bound book. Intricate designs were scattered throughout its back cover, engraved in gold. Two such designs, a pair of golden, twin swirls, flanked an equally golden fleur de lis on its spine. But the most amazing thing, what truly showed the book’s importance, were the golden letters, glinting under the light, on its cover:

Arcana’s Grimoire

Mouth hanging open, the young witch could only gape at her friend, completely blown away by the revelation, as the grimoire landed safely on her hands. With a small chuckle, Delilah pushed some loose, black locks obscuring the right side of her face aside. “Sorry. No matter how tightly I tie my braid, spellcasting always messes my hair up.”

Her throat suddenly very dry, Sam swallowed before managing to speak, a finger pointing at the manuscript. “Is...is that…?”

With a knowing smile, Delilah nodded. “Arcana's Grimoire. If you want to find answers on what’s causing those ghost portals to open at random, this baby is your best bet.” Stretching her arms towards the queen, she handed the book to her, who held it with as much care as one held a newborn for the first time, almost reverently. “The grimoire holds the answers to all those questions time made sure to erase.”

“I-I…you...t-the book...” Sam stuttered, not sure what to say. “A-are you sure you want to entrust the g-grimoire, Arcana’s Grimoire, to me?”

“It’s risky, I know. But you said it yourself, you wouldn’t ask me to grant you permission to take a spellbook out of the manor if you weren’t convinced it’s our only hope.” Those few loose strands falling on her face, a stark contrast to her dark mane, she lay a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder, a soft smile on her face. “And I wouldn’t hand the grimoire to you if I didn’t think it’d be safe with you.”

Eyes widening at the Council member’s words, Sam couldn’t do anything but send her a grateful smile in return. Clutching the grimoire close to her chest, she promised, “I’ll guard it with my life.”

Internally, she made another promise, only this time, it was much more violent than solemn. “And I swear, if Phantom so much as looks at it wrong, I’ll ask Danny to lend me some of his parents’ weapons and hunt him down myself.”

................

“You’re lucky this place sells some of the best pastrami sandwiches I’ve ever had, dude. Otherwise, you’d be on your own.” Tucker said in between bites of his heavenly pastrami with honey mustard sandwich. Wiping some sauce from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, earning himself disgusted looks from the two other people present, he wagged a finger at his best friend. “Seriously, though. Who would’ve thought Sam would have good taste in restaurants?”

He winced when the Goth in question elbowed him on his side. “I have excellent taste in food in general, thank you very much. It’s not my fault only 9% of the global population can appreciate it.”

Once again, they were meeting up at the You Mocha Me Crazy, which, at this rate, was going to become their new favourite hanging spot. Unless Sam was willing to forego her vegetarian ways and ask for a Double Meaty Nasty Burger with extra bacon with them. Somehow, that seemed unlikely. Luckily, during their first visit Sam had introduced Tucker to their selection of sandwiches and cold cuts, making it easier for the techno geek to warm up to the café.

After that successful first meeting, the trio decided to hang out whenever Danny needed Sam's help to write his ‘paper.’ All they had to do was ring or text Sam, and she’d tell them when she was free to meet.

Today was one of those days she was free and the guys were in need of her help. The three were lounging around a small coffee table Sam named ‘her spot’, for it was where she usually had her coffee or worked on her assignments in peace. The fact that she was good friends with one of the baristas also helped keep the space free of any ‘spot-stealing-squads,’ as she lovingly referred to ‘those vultures.’

Nursing his aching side, Tucker rolled his eyes. He’d already lost count on how many times they’d had that same conversation. “Is there anyone free from your vegan wrath?”

“For the last time, I’m ultra-recyclo-vegetarian, not vegan.”

“What’s the difference?” Danny intervened, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Vegans tend to waste almost as much food as non-vegetarians. Ultra-recyclo-vegetarians make the most of every single meal.” Sam explained, forking a piece of tomato from her salad. “That’s where the ‘recyclo’ part comes from.”

“I thought that was freegans.” Tucker frowned, still munching his sandwich.

“I’m surprised you even know what that is.”

“You and me both.” Danny said, turning to look at Tucker with a curious expression on his face.

Rolling his eyes, the techno geek shrugged them off. “You meet the craziest people on Tinder.” He explained offhandedly. When he took notice of his two companions’ horrified expressions, he almost doubled over in laughter. Clearing his throat, he turned to Sam. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

Shaking her head to erase the traumatising image that was Tucker’s love life, Sam started. “What? Uh...oh! Right. Ehem! As a matter of fact, there are people excluded from my ‘ultra-recyclo-vegetarian wrath.’” She corrected. “I’d never force people without enough resources to go vegan. Such as the Inuit community. Besides, those guys barely hunt anything compared to rich jerks with questionable hobbies, and they use everything of what little they do hunt.”

“Handy people.” Danny mused, before returning his attention to his laptop, resting on top of his lap, one leg crossed over his other knee. “Now, I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but we’re here to help me with my...with my homework, remember?”

If Sam thought the way he seemed to overthink his words was weird, she didn’t let it show. “Yeah, you’re right.” She said as she turned her torso around, reaching for her notes inside her spider backpack. “Okay, you two. Lay it on me; what do you want to know?”

Tucker and Danny exchanged a glance, before the blue-eyed boy ventured. “Well...Sam, you’re the expert. What can you tell us of...um...of the witches.”

Scanning through her notepad’s pages, Sam froze at Danny’s words. Could her people’s secret have been discovered already? Before risking compromising her sisters, she had to test the waters first. “Why are you doing your paper on witches in the first place?” Her voice came out a little colder than she intended.

Tucker furrowed his brow, taken aback by her sudden guarded posture, while Danny just rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Uh...why not? The seminar I signed up for is on mythological creatures and folklore, and witches are one of the most legendary myths ever...right?”

Alright, that made sense. But she couldn’t be reckless, she had to make sure Danny didn’t pose a threat to her coven. “Yeah, they definitely are. I’m sorry, it’s just...with all the ghosts constantly attacking Amity Park, I thought, ‘why witches?’, you know? I mean, your parents are experts! If you just asked them for a little bit of help, your assignment would immediately turn into an easy A, wouldn’t it?”

Taking a gulp from his espresso, Danny carefully thought what to say next. He couldn’t let Sam think he had some sort of ulterior motive for asking about the mystical group of women; he’d promised Lady Arcana her people’s secret would be safe, after all. So he did the only thing he could; he expertly lied. “Well, I don’t really like having things handed to me, you see. What’s the point in signing up for a seminar if I’m just going to get an easy A thanks to my parents, you know what I mean?”

Tucker had to fight the urge to laugh at the irony of the situation. Oh, what Danny wouldn’t have given just to get easy A’s during high school... When his two friends turned to him, Sam looking at him in confusion and Danny quietly begging him to keep his mouth shut, he played it cool by taking a sip from his drink.

“Anyway,” Danny continued, “I just thought ghosts would be...I dunno...too mainstream? The assignment is supposed to make me do research on mythological creatures, and nowadays it’s pretty obvious ghosts are anything but mythological.”

“Witches aren’t far behind, either…” Sam internally mused, sipping from her macchiato. Holding the carton cup with both hands, she decided sharing some information with Danny and Tucker would be safe. She’d just tell them the basics, debunk some Hollywood myths...the usual. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Danny echoed, hopefully.

“Okay.” Sam repeated with a smile. “Anything in particular you want to know about?”

“Just...anything you can tell us, really.” Tucker said, leaning forward with his hands between his legs.

“You’re gonna have to be a tad more specific than that, guys.”

Crossing his arms, the Astrophysics student thought long and hard. What was it that he really wanted to know about them? Well, the answer to that was obvious. His only real question was why? Why did they do what they did? If only he could figure that out, then maybe he’d know how to approach Lady Arcana. But there was no way he could ask that without exposing who he was. And it wasn’t like Sam, of all people, would have the answer anyway.

So instead he asked, “What’s their origin?”

That startled Sam, who almost choked on her lettuce, Tucker quickly coming to her assistance and patting her back. After massaging her throat and swallowing her food, she looked at Danny with an inquisitive eye. “Come again?” She croaked out.

“What’s their origin?” He repeated. “And...and I don’t mean this as in...as in a history lesson. Like, when did witches first appear or anything. If I wanted to know that, I’d just read a book or watch a National Geographic documentary. I-I mean, how is a witch even born?”

“Do I have to explain the birds and the bees to you guys, too?” She asked with a coy smile, having recovered from her coughing fit. Despite the seriousness of his query, the violet-eyed girl couldn’t help but tease him.

Danny flushed in embarrassment. He had to admit, he’d handed her that one. Shaking his head, he chuckled. “I’m good, thanks. You might need to talk to Tuck, though.” He joked, earning himself an offended gasp from his best friend, who punched him lightly on his arm in protest. “But, nah. I guess a better question would be, what makes a witch...well, a witch?”

Sam had to admit, it was a good question. Even if it may risk her people’s secrets, such depth earned the blue-eyed boy some respect from her. Not many people went beyond the basics when looking for information. Most would be content with reading the first few paragraphs of a Wikipedia article. But Danny… Something about the intensity of his ocean blue eyes made Sam feel he was more similar to his parents than he’d originally thought; despite having no interest in ghosts himself. Somehow, he shared their inquisitive and curious mind, albeit from a less scientific approach. Just by that question alone, she immediately understood Danny Fenton was much smarter than people gave him credit for.

Exhaling, she began to explain. “Believe it or not, the one who got closer to the truth was Harry Potter.”

“You mean the children’s book with the extra creepy white dude?” The bespectacled young man raised an eyebrow, before exchanging disbelieving glances with his best friend beside him.

She just chuckled. “Yeah. Witches are human women who were born with the innate ability to do magic, setting them apart from the rest.”

“So...this is witches vs muggles that we’re talking about.” Tucker insisted.

“Yes, Tucker.” Sam said with a bit more bite than she intended. “Point is, being born different tends to alienate people, and considering we’re talking about magical-powers kind of different…”

“The witches were alienated and persecuted by society.” Danny finished for her.

“Bingo.” The raven-haired girl picked up some photocopies with different articles printed on them and handed a few copies to both of them. “Although nowadays most people bel-know witches aren’t real,” she caught herself before her subconscious could rat her out, “some cryptology experts theorise they just eventually flocked together to keep whatever magical gene they had inside the coven. You know, as a precaution to avoid further persecution.” To this day, she still couldn’t believe a group of nutjobs would be right on the money. The sole idea was ludicrous, and yet…

“So, that’s it?” Tucker asked, looking up from his own set of photocopies, incredulous. “Witches are just humans who, inexplicably, won the superpower lottery?”

The Goth just smiled sheepishly at him. What could she say, anyway? Though witches weren’t against scientific discoveries or careers (Star herself was studying to become a mathematician), magic sort of was their thing; literally. So nobody had ever really delved on why or how they’re different from other humans.

Scratching his chin in thought, Danny tried reconciling what Sam said to his own encounters with the spellcasters. When he thought about it, Lady Arcana and her witches really weren’t any different from any other citizen of Amity Park; the only surprising thing about them was their Queen’s unique eye colourーher being breathtakingly beautiful didn’t matter since her personality needed an awful lot of workーand their characteristic ability to do magic...and maybe their questionable taste in pets.

But that was it.

Other than that they were as human as his own family. Even their hatred of ghosts was in synchrony with the town’s general opinion of him. Perhaps if he treated the Witch Queen as any other girl, things would smoothen between them. It made sense that part of her prickly personality was a result of him consciously treating her differently than he would treat others. Deep down, she knew they were unwelcomed, and therefore, built walls around her to avoid getting hurt.

“Look at you, worrying over making the Witch Queen feel comfortable around you...You’re a lost cause, Fenton.” Danny resisted the urge to roll his eyes at himself, having more important matters to take care of. “Sam,” he called out to her, startling her and Tucker out of their own conversation, “is there a way you could tell us about their spells or something?”

It was a risky question, he knew. But, as useful as learning to deal with the witches was, what they really needed was a way to put an end to the crisis threatening both dimensions. And the only way to do it was by finding a portal-related spell.

Eyes widening at his question, Sam could feel her stomach churning ominously. That question was a bit too specific for her liking. Depending on how she handled the situation, she could either masterfully take care of it or put her subjects in danger over a potential misunderstanding. “Their spells? What do you mean?”

Danny pretended to look through his own set of copies, trying to appear nonchalant, as if his question were born from mere curiosity, rather than a sense of impending doom. “Nothing, really. I was just curious. I mean, would witches even cast spells, or would they voluntarily just manifest their powers like ghosts do?” As he spoke, his mind raced back to the floating book Lady Arcana had, without any kind of warning, shoved in his face during her last visit.

The Goth had to resist the urge to spit in disgust at the notion of being compared to those disembodied remains of human consciousness. She took a subtle breath to ease away her repulsion. “It’s hard to say.” She lied. “Since there’s no clear evidence that true, real-life witches ever existed, ーand I’m sure they don’t, obviouslyー.”

“Obviously.” The two men seated with her echoed.

“ーthere’s no definite hypothesis explaining if they truly casted spells or not. For all we know, their famous rites and ceremonies could just be that; ceremonies belonging to pagan religions that were thought to be witchcraft by Christians.”

“Any chance we might be able to find any spell on the Internet?” Tucker wondered, readily taking his trusty PDA out of his pocket, causing Danny to sigh tiredly upon noticing the device in his hands. While Tucker used his tablet and computer when doing assignments or playing video games, that was solely because the screens were bigger. He’d actually been in a loving, committed relationship with his PDA since he first got it when he was 14. As time went by and technology evolved, instead of adjusting with the times, he put all his engineering knowledge to use with the sole intention of updating his baby and never having to part ways from her.

It was both kinda cool and a little disturbing, to be honest.

Leaning back on her chair and crossing her legs at her knee, mirroring Danny’s own stance, Sam propped her face on her hand, a bored expression plastered on her face. “Although I do find your commitment to recycling that old thing of yours instead of falling for the capitalistic trap that is technology consumption commendable,” she said, and Danny was sure his eyes must’ve popped open at seeing her utter that long-ass speech without so much as pausing to breathe, “sometimes I worry about you.”

Offended, Tucker frowned at her, only clutching his PDA tighter in his hands. “I’m mercifully going to choose to ignore everything you just said except for the part when you call me ‘commendable.’ Now, can I look for information on the Internet or not?”

Leaning forward, this time resting her chin on her knuckles at the same time as she propped her elbow on her bent knee, Sam shrugged, not really caring. “You can try, but chances are you’re only going to find Halloween articles from children’s magazines, or weird Satanist websites asking you to offer a sacrifice in exchange for joining them.”

As Tucker flopped back down on his chair with his arms crossed, pouting and grumbling something along the lines of, “Damn it, Jazz…”, Danny tried fishing for more information. “So they don’t really cast spells?”

The discomfort came back. She knew Danny was only trying to be thorough with his assignment, but that didn’t change the fact that his questions hit a little too close to the mark. “The only way to find out for sure would be meeting one in real life.” She said in a voice so low, even with his enhanced senses Danny almost didn’t hear her.

Noticing the tension suddenly coming off of Sam, her previously laid-back and even playful posture changing to a much more tense one: legs crossed tightly, her shoulders stiff, both hands clutching at the fabric of her shorts…; Tucker decided it’d be best if they let the topic go for a while. And so, he did what he did best:

He abruptly changed the topic.

“So Sam,” he called out to her, quickly getting both her and Danny’s heads to snap to him, “I don’t think you’ve ever told me.”

“Tell you what?” What was he doing?

“What’s your deal?”

Sam blinked. “My deal?”

The teal-eyed young man just nodded. “Yeah, what’s your type?” He asked as he leaned forward, mindlessly toying with his PDA. “Because in all the time I’ve known you, I’ve not seen you once with a boyfriend, not even a fling.”

“Tucker, you’ve known me for a year.” She reminded him. “Not necessarily as much time as you make it out to be.”

“Hey, a lot can happen in a year!” He defended.

“Tucker himself has had three different girlfriends in the last three months.” Danny added.

“See?” Then, he turned to his best friend with an unamused expression on his face. “But, dude, don’t say it like that; you make me sound like a player.”

“I’m just saying,” the black-haired youth put his palms up in surrender, a lazy grin on his face, “it’s not bad for a guy who was rejected by every single girl back in high school.”

Tucker just glowered at him, before turning his attention back to Sam. “So...back to the question; what’s your type of guy?”

She could not believe this was happening. Back when she was a teenager, a tinsy bitsy part of her she tried very hard to suppress secretly longed for talking about girl stuff with the other girls her age from her clan. Something as silly as talking boys, makeup, or any other teenaged-girl nonsense with other people would’ve made her lonely childhood all the more bearable, and now…

...now she was being offered to talk about boys...by other boys...at twenty-one. And the worst part was that she was actually considering it. Her life could not get any more complicated than that. Sighing through her nose, unable to believe how low she’d stooped, she gave in.

Her type...that was a good question. Back when she was still in her early to late teens, she would’ve said she was looking for a unique guy. The type of guy who valued his individuality and who was above all the pointless trends dominating the public with their pre-fabricated, market-targeted predictability. A guy who didn’t fall into any of the classical high school cliques: someone who wasn’t a brainless jock, or a geeky kid, or one of those posers who hid behind a fake dark persona to get people to pay attention to him.

Someone who embraced being different rather than exploited it.

Someone like her.

But all those fantasies turned out to be nothing more than that; fantasies. Delusions. Sooner or later she’d have to open her eyes to the world. She just wished Gregor hadn’t been the one to open them up for her… After that fiasco, Sam finally learned what she was truly looking for in a partner. “...a good guy.” She practically whispered in the end.

Tucker and Danny exchanged a confused glance once their initial surprise at Sam’s sudden reply, after several minutes of silence, had worn off. It was the former who spoke up, “...I’m not sure that qualifies as ‘a type.’”

“Of course it does!”, she protested. “Just like girls stereotypically fall for ‘bad boys’, we can also fall for ‘good guys.’ And I’ve had my fair share of bad boys, thank you…” she muttered before looking away from them.

Something about the way Sam said those words hinted at a lot more going on than just a teenage girl crushing over a guy with a motorcycleーand hopefully not a ghost one who only wanted her as a vessel for his real girlfriendー, but she seemed to have closed herself off completely. Danny wanted to ask her about it, but something in the way her position stiffened changed his mind. No way would Sam open up to someone she'd just met over something so personal.

Instead he asked, "And how about looks?"

She flashed him a small smile and that alone made his entire week worth it. "I'll admit, I do have a soft spot for guys that aren't exactly average."

Tucker scoffed. "Well, duh! I'd also pick a supermodel over a plain-looking chick any day of the week..."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

Despite the seriousness in her voice, she eventually broke down laughing, the other two joining in on the fun soon after. As her giggles quieted down, Sam stole a furtive glance at Danny. The way he seemed to sense her discomfort despite barely knowing each other and making an effort to keep her mind away from unpleasant thoughts was enough to make her heart flutter, making her blush slightly at the realisation.

She shook the feeling off, though. Danny was sweet, and maybe a little cute despite his, apparently, natural awkwardness, but she wasn’t looking for romance, having much more important things to take care of. Besides, he really wasn’t her type, cute as he may be. Still, that didn’t change the fact that she wanted to thank him for his help in some way. And, against her better judgement, she knew just what to do.

An hour passed by until Tucker had to bid them goodbye, saying he was going to be late for class if he stayed with them any longerーalthough he really, really wanted to skip that lectureー, and so, he left his two friends to their own devices. Another forty minutes or so later, it was finally time for them to go to their respective classes, too.

Rolling her eyes at Danny as he opened the door for her, but thanking him nonetheless, Sam stepped out of the café, her companion close behind her. “About the spell thing you asked me about earlier…” she started, her words coming out of the blue and tearing Danny away from his own thoughts, “I guess, if witches are actually just humans with magical powers, then it’d make sense if they’d need some sort of way to activate said powers…”

Mouth slightly agape, he finally found the words, “You mean like a password or something?”

She looked over at him from the corner of her eyes, a cryptic smirk on her lovely face. “Maybe.”

Turning to face him, her smile widening but never losing its mystery, she waved before walking past him, “See ya, Danny.”

Danny slowly waved at her in return, unbidden, too gobsmacked to form a coherent sentence. Because just like that, she was gone.

40 notes · View notes

upsteadhq · 4 years

Text

you’re a natural

prompt: zero sleep and spending way too much time thinking about upstead when i *really* should be studying

i couldn’t find a song with lyrics that felt right for the title so i just stole a line from the fic

Hailey was about to swing for something, more specifically her brother when he came back by to pick up his currently screaming son. Don’t get her wrong, she loves her nephew, but mostly when someone else was here to stop him from crying if he were to start. But instead it was just her, and she didn’t have a clue on what to do.

Her brother had come by earlier, practically dropping the two-week-old infant at the door in his car seat with his diaper bag, claiming an urgent emergency at work was why he was asking her to babysit with zero amount of notice. For the most part everything had been fine, the newborn sleeping in the car seat for the first hour before wanting to be picked up and then falling back asleep in Hailey’s arms. But about ten minutes ago he had started crying and to this moment she hadn’t figured out why.

She had tried everything. Nothing.

She was surprised she could even hear the knock on her front door over the cries and she furrows her brows slightly - it had only been two hours since Danny had dropped him off, there was no way in hell he was done already, he would be a minimum of four hours - and then she remembers her plans she had made with Jay earlier that she had forgot to cancel when Danny texted saying he was outside.

Hailey curses under her breath as she moves across the living room and to the door, pulling it open to find Jay stood on the other side. Luckily the infant in her arms had hushed slightly as she was moving so she was able to hear the words coming out of her partner’s mouth.

“Something you’ve been meaning to tell us, Upton?” He asks, a slight amused grin written on his face.

All Hailey can do is glare to him, removing the smile off of Jay in a blink of an eye, and she moves out of the way to allowing into the house. “It’s my nephew, Danny dropped him off with no notice and he’s been crying for the last ten minutes and I don’t know why.” She says, shutting the front door behind him.

Jay had made his way into the kitchen as she spoke, putting the takeaway pizza box on the counter before turning back on his heels to face Hailey. “Well what have you done?”

Hailey shrugs. “What haven’t I done? I’ve changed him, rocked him, swaddled him, hell I even tried singing to him, but he’s still crying.”

Jay steps closer, raising his eyebrows. “Have you tried feeding him?”

She had tried everything. Except that.

Hailey slowly shakes her head, her words much faster than her head movements. “I didn’t think he’d be hungry, Danny said he had fed him just before he got here. That was only like two hours ago.”

“It’s worth a try,” Jay shrugs before looking around the room, “You got a bottle?”

She quickly nods. “I’ll grab it.” She says before handing off the infant into Jay’s open arms and immediately running over to the side of the couch, grabbing one of the few bottles in the diaper bag she had been given.

Then she turns back around to see what was in front of her, and despite her hardest efforts her heart clenched at the sight. She had always known her partner was good with kids, that he had a soft spot for them, but him standing in the middle of her living room with her nephew rested on his chest rocking side to side shushing under his breath in an effort to soothe the cries just proved that point even further.

She shakes her head subtly, moving back over to him and handing the bottle to him. Jay gently takes it from her hand and makes his way over to the couch so he could position the baby better in to his arms, beginning to feed the newborn, who graciously accepts the bottle.

And then the house fills into a silence and Hailey can’t believe how much she had loved hearing no noise. As she stepped closer to the couch she could hear the snuffling noises coming from her nephew as he ate and she smiles before joining next to her partner.

Jay looks up from the newborn to Hailey. “What’s the little guy’s name?” He asks.

Hailey drops her gaze to the infant before back up to Jay. “Parker.”

“How come you didn’t say you have a nephew?” Jay questions.

Hailey then shrugs. “A lot of people have nephews and nieces, Jay, it’s not a new phenomenon, it’s not something that needs to be pointed out. So what? I have a nephew.”

Jay tilts his head to one side. “I just thought we were getting close.” He replies and Hailey can’t help but roll her eyes and he lets out a chuckle.

The two of them fall into a silence as they both turn their attention to Parker, who carried on eating without caring that he was being watched. Hailey smiles as she then catches Jay in the corner of her eye tilting the bottle up when the milk was running low, knowing exactly what to do.

“You’re a natural.” She points out, not lifting her gaze from Jay and her nephew.

Jay shakes his head slightly. “I wouldn’t say natural, more like I’ve had a lot of practice,” he says and Hailey can feel her eyebrows dip with wonder as to how he had practice so he answers without her having to ask the question. “I had a lot of army buddies who had kids, and when they didn’t make it home I’d go and check in, help out. Some of them even had newborns they never got to meet because they were born while they were on tour, so I got pretty used to changing diapers, knowing what to do when feeding them, things like that.”

“But still, you knew straight away he might be hungry, that thought didn’t even cross my mind. You’re much more equipped to be a parent than me.” Hailey sighs.

“Hails, it’s like riding a bike, knowing what to do isn’t something that just comes naturally to people, there is no such thing as a person ‘made’ to be a parent, it’s like a skill you learn and once you’ve cracked it you’ve cracked it,” he says before giving her a soft stare and she swears it’s enough to make her knees go weak, “If you ask me I think you’d make an amazing mom.” He adds and his voice is quiet enough it could be classed as a whisper.

Hailey quickly has to look down so he can’t see the pink blush creeping along her cheeks and she decides to change the subject in the hopes of ridding the heat pooling in her chest. “Thanks, you saved my ass. I was about to lose my mind.”

Jay shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders once again. “Don’t worry about it, you know I’ve always got your back and I’ll always save your ass, whether that’s from a suspect we’re chasing or from a screaming baby. Always.” He replies and shoots her a smile before dropping his gaze back down to Parker cradled in his arms.

#yes i did give names to one of upton's brothers #because it's never gonna be revealed in the show #upstead #chicago pd #jay halstead #hailey upton #upstead fic #one chicago #chicago pd fanfiction #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #halstead x upton #fanfiction #upstead fanfiction #upstead with a baby #my brain is fried now #goodnight

108 notes · View notes

jbbarnesnnoble · 4 years

Text

Chaos

Summary: You and Bucky Barnes are not friends. You’re partners who put up with each other, whose styles on the field clash constantly. One mission leads to a moment of vulnerability

Features: Angst; Brief mentions of violence, mentions of past human experimentation and unknown medical issues

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

Notes: This is my late submission for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan‘s Hamifilm Lyric challenge. Time got away from me, between my dissertation and starting a new job. I’m not entirely happy with how this turned out, but it still ended up running away from me.

My prompt was chaos and bloodshed are not a solution

Word Count: 2984

You were itching for a change. You had been cooped up in the compound for far too long after your last mission. You had broken your wrist on your last outing and had gotten shot. You had only just been cleared. It hadn’t been your fault, but Barnes would argue otherwise.You and Bucky Barnes didn’t hate each other, but you weren’t friends. You worked well together in the field, all things considered. It was why the two of you were constantly paired together.

He had been livid after your last mission. The silence on the way back to the compound had spoken volumes. The two of you had brought Peter Parker out into the field for what was supposed to be a training mission, a low level one that was supposed to have minimal danger. The key words there were supposed to. Things had gone south the second the three of you entered the building.

Your wrist had ended up broken after you pushed Peter to the ground when you dove in front of him. The lone operative you had yet to find had taken aim at the teenager. You took the shot for him and Barnes took out the operative. Unlike Barnes and Peter, you didn’t have a healing factor. The shot had been dangerously close to striking something vital, but hadn’t. Barnes had been able to stitch you up on the quinjet and gave you the silent treatment all the while.

It hadn’t been until later that night that the two of you got into it. Words had flown recklessly, and you were both dangerously close to crossing the point of no return with them. Steve had had to intervene to get the two of you to calm down.

You found yourself sitting by the window, watching the snow fall outside. You had made yourself a cup of hot chocolate, fully intending to enjoy the day off from training. Even with your injury, you had still been responsible to train, doing what you could without agitating your wrist. You had finally been cleared to return to full active duty that morning, six weeks after the mission that had ended in disaster.

You groaned when FRIDAY told you your presence was required in one of the conference rooms. So much for a relaxing Saturday morning.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The mission briefing devolved quickly into an argument between you and Barnes. The two of you were put as the point people on the mission, and you had different views on how to handle it. You preferred the guns blazing approach. Loud and brash was your style when dealing with the kind of people the mission involved. You had read enough of the brief to know what you were dealing with. You never cared for the nitty gritty details, something that annoyed Barnes to no end.

“All I’m saying is we storm the place, take out the bad guys and call it a day. Intelligence says there’s only about a dozen or so in the building. It’s a cake walk,” you said, tossing the folder down on the table. Bucky’s expression hardened as he glared at you. You refused to back down.

“Chaos and bloodshed are not a solution. Not every plan has to end with blood on your hands,” Bucky snapped, his hands hitting the table. You recoiled. You had never seen him have this reaction before. He’d been annoyed before, sometimes a little angry, but he never looked as angry as he did in that moment. You knew he was right, but you couldn’t bring yourself to give an inch of ground.

“Then what do you propose, oh Great One. You’ve never been one to be a pacifist before,” you replied. He glared at you. You refused to shrink back under the intensity of his gaze.

“Did you even read the mission brief fully, Agent? There are children there. No older than Parker. Do you really want that on your hands?” he challenged. He knew you hadn’t read the full brief. You snatched the folder off the table, feeling the blood rush from your face as you saw what you had missed. A sick feeling made itself at home in the pit of your stomach.

“Okay. We nix the guns blazing approach. But that doesn’t guarantee they won’t hurt them, or worse, use them as human shields against us,” you replied, sitting down in an empty chair, shoulders slumped. You saw his expression soften but ignored it. Now was not the time to get distracted by Barnes. You couldn’t believe you missed that detail. A sick feeling settled in your stomach.

“We have to do this carefully. If we use the tech to our advantage, we can infiltrate without arousing suspicion,” Natasha offered. You nodded. You ran a hand over your face in frustration before you collected your thoughts, your mind moving a mile a minute as you looked over the maps FRIDAY was projecting.

“We don’t have many options. Scott, how do you feel about some recon?” you asked. Scott was your best option. You didn’t want to risk anything going wrong. Not now that you knew there were children involved. Scott was good at moving around undetected.

“I can do that,” he said. You glanced around the room. It was only you, Natasha, Bucky, and Scott in the room. Peter was missing. A frown settled on your face. Parker was supposed to be there. He had been there when you walked in but was no longer there. The four of you and Peter were the only ones at the compound. The others were on other missions and this one had come in urgently. You knew it had been on the radar for a while, but something had changed in the situation that triggered an immediate need for action.

“Wait...where is Parker?” you asked. It dawned on the others that the teen was no longer in the room. You got your answer when seconds later he all but crashed through the door.

“Sorry, sorry, Ned called. He’s stuck in Metuchen,” Peter said. Something was off about his tone. All eyes were on him, waiting for some sort of explanation.

“Where?” Scott asked, confused. You knew where that was. Your mind was racing to put the pieces together as you took in Peter’s tense body language, the nervousness he held. You glanced at the map in front of you, the pieces coming together, before you asked the question you already knew the answer to.

“Is he in Jersey?” you asked, brow furrowed. You knew in your gut that the kid had done something he shouldn’t have. Metuchen was where the building was you were looking to infiltrate.You saw the moment Bucky realized what you had already pieced together.

“Peter...why is Ned in Jersey?” Bucky asked. Peter went wide eyed.

“I...well...you see...I have some new prototypes and well...you have to be in close proximity to operate them,” Peter said.

“Peter, please tell me Ned isn’t near that building,” Natasha said.

“I could tell you that...but it’d be a lie,” Peter said, his voice trailing off. You took a deep breath before meeting Bucky’s eyes. The two of you shared a look, only breaking eye contact when Bucky spoke.

“Wheels up in five. There’s a landing zone we can use not far from where they are,” Bucky said. No one made a move.

“Let’s go people. We don’t have all day. Scott, you’re first in, get us a visual on the kids and Ned if you can,” you said.

“I didn’t say they caught him,” Peter said. You stared him down. Even if he wasn’t still nervous, a by-product of his age and his experience in the field, you knew his tells. Aside from Tony, you were one of his primary mentors. Whether it was fighting tactics or help with his history homework, Peter came to you for a lot of things. He had become your little brother in a way.

“They caught Ned but they didn’t take his phone,” Peter admitted. A tense silence gripped the room. There was a new sense of urgency.

“At least it seems like they’re incompetant,” Scott replied, trying to bring some levity to the situation.

“Or they want to draw us in. We need to be cautious,” Natasha said. You knew that Natasha had a point. As sloppy as they had been, there was always the risk that it was a trap.

“We don’t know what they have. They could still figure it out, still disable any tech we use somehow. We need to be prepared for anything,” Bucky replied, glancing over at you. Everyone stood, ready to head to the jet.

“FRIDAY, get a location on Ned’s phone. Peter, you need to tell us everything you know,” you said as you began walking out of the room and toward the hangar.

It didn’t take long for the five of you to reach the landing zone you had designated. It wasn’t a far walk. Peter’s newest invention was a miniaturized drone. You had reviewed the footage with Bucky and Natasha en route to the landing zone. You had to admit, you had an advantage going in with the footage.

“What are you thinking?” Natasha asked.

“We still send Scott in first. Before Ned was taken, seems like the perimeter was insecure. It doesn’t seem like they were waiting for us, and it seems like they were surprised to find Ned,” you said.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not a trap. Comms stay open. There’s a drainage pipe that leads right into the grounds. We use that as our entry point. Chaos and Parker will use their abilities to get in. Scott, you’re flying,” Bucky said.

“Wait for your call?” you asked.

“As soon as I call it you go,” Bucky replied. Your powers allowed you to phase through objects. You likened it to Danny Phantom. You had a heightened healing factor and super strength that came with it. Your other main power involved controlling the elements around you. There was a reason they called you Chaos.

“Catch you on the other side,” you said as you and Peter split off. It was another ten minutes before Bucky and Natasha reached the entry point from the drainage pipe. Scott had made his way deep into the facility. You were headed right for the children and Ned. You knew there were others spread throughout the building but your priority was getting the innocent ones to safety. Natasha and Bucky would handle taking out others on their way to meet you and Peter.

“Howdy gentlemen,” you said as you curled your hand, focusing on the task at hand. You and Peter made quick work of taking down those in your way without alerting them to your presence. It was a key to succeeding. You had read more of the file than Bucky gave you credit for. While you had missed the information on the children being held currently, you knew they were brutal when they thought someone was on to them.

“I have eyes on Ned. I don’t think they figured out he was surveilling them,” Scott’s voice came. You and Peter had entered another room, ensuring it was cleared. You saw a stack of folders and nodded your head toward them.

“What’s this say?” Peter asked.

“It says they’re dead men walking. I thought the last of them were wiped off the earth,” you said your voice low.

“Who are they, Chaos?” he asked.

“The reason I am the way I am. Hydra weren’t the only ones interested in recreating the serum that made Captain America. They thought children were the key. I should have known it wouldn’t be the end,” you said. It was personal, now. You tore your way through the building as your comms buzzed in your ear. By the time you reached the room where the captives were being held, you could feel the energy crackling around you. You and Peter breached the door. He made quick work of webbing the two men standing guard inside the room as you checked on the children and Ned. You broke the lock on a cabinet, finding a stash of blankets, enough for each of them, if they shared.

“What happened?” Natasha asked as she and Bucky rounded the corner and entered the room.

“We’ll talk at the debrief. I’ve already gotten in contact with the compound. Dr. Cho is waiting for us with the entire medical staff on standby. FRIDAY will run facial recognition when we get to the jet. There’s a team enroute to secure the rest of the building and take anything we may be interested in,” you said. You were on autopilot.

It wasn’t until late that night that the five of you gathered in the meeting room to debrief. You were still on edge.

“What the hell happened there? I thought we agreed to limit the bloodshed as much as possible. You want to tell me why Abrams is telling me there was a trail of destruction in your wake?” Bucky asked.

“Because it’s the same organization that did this to me. The same organization that stole my childhood to try to re-create Steve. I’ll admit, I lost control. But you would have too, Barnes,” you said.

“I didn’t realize,” he started to say before you cut him off.

“Neither did I. I thought we wiped them out years ago. Turns out we were wrong. We just drove them deeper underground instead,” you said. The rest of the debrief was uneventful. Your reports were due in forty-eight hours, though you knew yours would be done by morning. You hated dwelling on things.

You found yourself making a cup of hot chocolate, extra marshmallows and whipped cream, before heading to the balcony that was just off of the Avengers living area. It was a post mission routine, one that helped you get out of the headspace that came with missions. The night had a slight chill to it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You heard the door slide open a short time later. You could tell by the footsteps who it was.

“Thought I’d find you out here. You did good today,” Bucky said, sitting down in the seat beside you.

“I thought you said chaos and bloodshed were not a solution?” you asked, lowering your voice to mimic him. He cracked a smile before laughing with you joining in.

“It wasn’t. Not for entering the building. Chaos and bloodshed have a time and a place,” he replied. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you sipped on your hot chocolate, looking up at the sky. You were scanning the night sky for any constellations you could identify.

“What’s on your mind?” Bucky asked. You glanced over at him.

“You ever think about how in the grand scheme of things, we’re just specks of dust floating through space? There’s worlds out there we know nothing about. And in a second, that can just disappear and the universe just moves on,” you said.

“Where’s this coming from?” he asked. You sighed.

“How much do you know about how I came to join the team?” you asked him. You weren’t sure you had ever talked to him about it. The relationship between the two of you was frosty, sometimes cordial, sometimes filled with angst and anger. You couldn’t recall ever having a heart to heart with him.

“I know this group we took out today had a role in you becoming who you are,” he said.

“They told my parents they could fix me. I was sick when I was a kid...not sick, more of a medical mystery. The doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong. MRIs, x-rays, blood tests. They ran the gamut of tests and nothing came of it. Until Dr. Westerly. Dr. Westerly came a long, had this test she could run. She told my parents the condition I had had no name but I was a perfect candidate for a clinical trial. They were desperate. It took my parents a month to realize something was wrong. I was injected with something that gave me powers. When Westerly caught on that they were suspecting something, she took me and fled. Six months. She had me for six months, running tests. SHIELD found me and brought me home. More specifically, Fury,” you explained.

“How known was this to SHIELD?” he asked.

“Not very. My father and Fury are old friends. Fury trusted very few with my rescue. Clint was on the team that got me out. Fury oversaw my training covertly because the man has never been trusting, not really. You have to earn it, it’s not just given,” you replied.

You didn’t want to get into the details and Bucky wasn’t about to pry. You didn’t jump when his hand covered yours. Soon enough you moved closer to him, his arm moving to be around your shoulder.

“There’s Orion,” Bucky said, gesturing toward the sky.

“That’s always been one of my favorites,” you replied. The two of you sat comfortably for a while, pointing out constellations and other stars. You couldn’t recall every sitting and just talking to him. Under the moonlight, he looked almost ethereal. You’d be lying if you said you never found him attractive. You didn’t see him giving you the same look when you’d look away.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but you drifted off beside him, cuddled into his side. You woke up, still outside beside him, with a thick blanket strewn across the two of you, a note attached by your hand in Natasha’s writing. You smiled as you read it, before nestling back into Bucky’s side. You’d address the elephant in the room later, content to sleep beside him as the sun rose over the horizon.

#bucky barnes #star’s hamilfilm lyric challenge #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes Fanfic #bucky barnes reader insert #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #winter soldier fanfic #winter soldier

45 notes · View notes

twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

Text

Written In The Stars CXLIII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I knew ppl were going to drop my fic in this book bc I made things complicated but I don’t regret the plot— did it still made me sad? yes it sure did -Danny

Words: 5,256

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘No Control’ -by Dylan Reynolds

Chapter Five: The New Routine.

Dumbledore knocked on the door three times and Mrs Weasley's voice was quick to answer.

"Who's there? Declare yourself!"

"It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry. Mel and Erick are with us."

"Harry, dear!" Mrs Weasley opened the door at once, letting them in. "Mel! Erick! Gracious, Albus, you gave me a fright, you said not to expect you before morning!"

"We were lucky, Slughorn proved much more persuadable than I had expected. The children's doing, of course. Ah, hello, Nymphadora!"

"Hello, Professor... Wotcher, kids."

"Hi, Tonks."

Tonks was looking remarkably grim, Mel looked around the kitchen.

"Where's my mum?"

"I told her to go to bed," Mrs Weasley said sweetly, "it's almost midnight, the baby kept her up last night and she needed to sleep."

"I'd better be off," Tonks stood up. "Thanks for the tea and sympathy, Molly."

"Please don't leave on my account," said Dumbledore, "I cannot stay, I have urgent matters to discuss with Rufus Scrimgeour."

"No, no, I need to get going," She replied. "'Night —"

"Dear, why not come to dinner at the weekend, Remus and Mad-Eye are coming — ?"

"My uncle's coming?" Mel asked with excitement.

"No, really, Molly... thanks anyway..." Tonks said tensely. "Good night, everyone."

"Well, I shall see you at Hogwarts," Dumbledore told them. "Take care of yourself. Molly, your servant."

He and Tonks disapparated, Erick spoke up.

"You have a lovely house, Mrs Weasley."

"Oh dear, well, we do make an effort on making it cosy," Mrs Weasley smiled. "You're like Ron, all of you, you look as though you've had Stretching Jinxes put on you. I swear Ron's grown four inches since I last bought him school robes. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah, I am," said Harry.

"A bit," Erick agreed.

Mel sat down between them, she was quite pleased about Mrs Weasley's comment on her growth, even though hers was less noticeable than the boys' who now were five and seven inches taller than her.

Crookshanks and Grey quickly made their way to them. Grey didn't like Erick very much, though Mel didn't know why. Crookshanks, on the other hand, was a huge fan.

"So Hermione's here?" Harry asked as he watched the ginger cat ruin the impeccable set of clothes Erick was wearing.

"Oh yes, she arrived the day before yesterday. Everyone's in bed, of course, we didn't expect you for hours. Here you are — Bread, dears?"

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley."

"So you persuaded Horace Slughorn to take the job?"

"It wasn't hard," Mel smiled. "Professor Slughorn was eager to get to know us better."

"He taught Arthur and me. He was at Hogwarts for ages, started around the same time as Dumbledore, I think. Did you like him?"

Harry and Erick shrugged, Mel kept her attention on her plate.

"I know what you mean... Of course he can be charming when he wants to be, but Arthur's never liked him much. The Ministry's littered with Slughorn's old favorites, he was always good at giving leg ups, but he never had much time for Arthur — didn't seem to think he was enough of a highflier. Well, that just shows you, even Slughorn makes mistakes. I don't know whether Ron's told you in any of his letters — it's only just happened — but Arthur's been promoted!"

Harry made a funny noise, taken by surprise. Erick did a sort of delighted hum and Mel stopped eating, staring at her attentively.

"That's great!" Harry said.

"You are sweet... Yes, Rufus Scrimgeour has set up several new offices in response to the present situation, and Arthur's heading the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. It's a big job, he's got ten people reporting to him now!"

"Sounds important," Erick smiled.

"What exactly — ?"

"Well, you see, in all the panic about You-Know-Who, odd things have been cropping up for sale everywhere, things that are supposed to guard against You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters. You can imagine the kind of thing — so-called protective potions that are really gravy with a bit of bubotuber pus added, or instructions for defensive jinxes that actually make your ears fall off..."

Mrs Weasley looked beyond proud as she told them all about her husband's new job. Mel was happy for him, she couldn't think of a man who deserved a promotion more than Mr Weasley.

"...So you see, it's a very important job, and I tell him it's just silly to miss dealing with spark plugs and toasters and all the rest of that Muggle rubbish."

"Well, the heart wants what it wants," Mel chuckled, she was unaware of the way both boys looked at her.

"Is Mr Weasley still at work?" Harry questioned.

"Yes, he is. As a matter of fact, he's a tiny bit late... He said he'd be back around midnight..."

Mel felt something awful crawling up her chest when she noticed all the tiny hands on the clock were now pointing at 'Mortal peril'.

"It's been like that for a while now," Mrs Weasley commented, "ever since You-Know-Who came back into the open. I suppose everybody's in mortal danger now... I don't think it can be just our family... but I don't know anyone else who's got a clock like this, so I can't check. Oh!"

Mr Weasley's was now currently pointing at 'travelling.'

"He's coming!" She got up, a second later there was a knock on the door. "Arthur, is that you?"

"Yes. But I would say that even if I were a Death Eater, dear. Ask the question!"

"Oh, honestly..."

"Molly!"

"All right, all right... What is your dearest ambition?"

"To find out how airplanes stay up."

Mel and Harry shared a look of amusement, she heard Erick mumbling 'How do they stay up?' Mrs Weasley tried to open the door but her husband kept it shut.

"Molly! I've got to ask you your question first!"

"Arthur, really, this is just silly..."

"What do you like me to call you when we're alone together?"

The group of teenagers froze.

"Mollywobbles," Mrs Weasley whispered to the tiny crack in the door.

Mel choked on the soup, Harry had to hide his face entirely to control his laughing fit after watching her almost die, Erick quickly patted her back.

"Correct," Mr Weasley said brightly. "Now you can let me in."

"I still don't see why we have to go through that every time you come home!" Mrs Weasley complained as the man walked in. "I mean, a Death Eater might have forced the answer out of you before impersonating you!"

"I know, dear, but it's Ministry procedure, and I have to set an example. Something smells good — onion soup? Kids! We didn't expect you until morning!"

They all greeted Mr Weasley, Mel finally able to breathe and Harry able to speak without cracking up.

"Thanks, Molly," He said when the woman set a plate for him. "It's been a tough night. Some idiot's started selling Metamorph-Medals. Just sling them around your neck and you'll be able to change your appearance at will. A hundred thousand disguises, all for ten Galleons!"

"And what really happens when you put them on?"

"Mostly you just turn a fairly unpleasant orange color, but a couple of people have also sprouted tentaclelike warts all over their bodies. As if St. Mungo's didn't have enough to do already!"

"It sounds like the sort of thing Fred and George would find funny," said Mrs Weasley with doubt. "Are you sure — ?"

"Of course I am! The boys wouldn't do anything like that now, not when people are desperate for protection!"

"So is that why you're late, Metamorph-Medals?"

"No, we got wind of a nasty backfiring jinx down in Elephant and Castle, but luckily the Magical Law Enforcement Squad had sorted it out by the time we got there..."

Harry yawned beside her, Mel was starting to feel weary herself after days of sleeping in the backseat of a car.

"Bed," said Mrs Weasley. "I've got Fred and George's room all ready for you, boys. Mel, you're sharing Ginny's bedroom but I don't want you to wake the girls up. Is it okay if you sleep with Erick and Harry tonight?"

"Yeah, it's fine," Mel yawned, too sleepy to care.

"Where are the twins?" Harry asked.

"Oh, they're in Diagon Alley, sleeping in the little flat over their joke shop as they're so busy," said Mrs Weasley, and Mel could tell there was a hint of pride in her voice. "I must say, I didn't approve at first, but they do seem to have a bit of a flair for business! Come on, dears, your trunks are already up there."

"'Night, Mr Weasley," said Harry.

"Thank you for letting us stay," Erick added.

"Have a goodnight!" Mel ended.

"G'night," said Mr Weasley.

Mel had been in the twins' room a couple of times through the years, it was startling when she walked in and couldn't recognize it. The smell of fireworks was still hanging in the air and there was a few boxes of their personal items laying around, but almost nothing left from their essence in the room, it made her feel homesick.

There were only two beds since they weren't expected until the next morning. Mrs Weasley quickly made a third bed appear with a flick of her wand, it was smaller than the other two, mostly blankets and cushions piled together. She apologized profusely, but Mel didn't mind, she would've slept on the floor considering how exhausted she was.

The boys insisted that she took one of their beds but Mel refused, when she came back from changing Erick was already tucked in her pile of blankets. Harry was grinning at the way his feet were hanging over the edge.

The following morning she was awoken by the door slamming open and a pair of feet stomping into the room. She hid her face between the pillows, Harry's mattress squeaked as he sat up, and fabric rustled as Erick pushed down his blankets.

"Wuzzgoinon?" Harry asked sleepily.

"We didn't know you were here already!" There was a soft thud coming from Harry's bed after Ron sat down on it.

"Ron, don't hit him!" Hermione sat on Mel's bed.

"Dear Merlin," She groaned, hiding under the covers. "I'm going to murder you two..."

"All right?" Ron asked.

"Never been better," said Harry, sounding a bit more awake. "You?"

"Not bad."

"I knew there was no way I'd have a quiet morning here," Erick grumbled. "Hi, 'Mione..."

"Hi!" She said brightly, then shook one of Mel's legs. "Wake up! I want to hear all you did during your mission!"

"When did you get here? Mum's only just told us!" Ron said.

"About one o'clock this morning," Harry replied, Mel turned around and squinted, trying to get used to the sunlight.

"Were the Muggles all right? Did they treat you okay?"

"Same as usual... they didn't talk to me much, but I like it better that way. How're you, Hermione?"

"Oh, I'm fine."

"What's the time? Have we missed breakfast?" Harry said.

"Don't worry about that, Mum's bringing you up a tray; she reckons you look underfed," said Ron.

"Well, he is," Mel replied, finally sitting up. "You should've seen my mum — almost forced the food down his throat once..."

Harry threw a pillow at her, but he missed by a considerable distance.

"So, what's been going on?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Nothing much, I've just been stuck at my aunt and uncle's, haven't I?"

"And we just had a road trip around some towns," Erick said, getting out of his covers only to sit down on Harry's bed.

"Come off it!" said Ron. "You've been off with Dumbledore!"

"It wasn't that exciting. He just wanted us to help him persuade this old teacher to come out of retirement. His name's Horace Slughorn."

"Oh... We thought —" Hermione hushed him, Ron was quick to correct his mistake. "— we thought it'd be something like that."

"You did?" Harry grinned.

"Yeah... yeah, now Umbridge has left, obviously we need a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, don't we? So, er, what's he like?"

"He looks a bit like a walrus, and he used to be Head of Slytherin," Harry shrugged, then he glanced back at their friend and raised a brow. "Something wrong, Hermione?"

The girl gave a start, straightening in her place.

"No, of course not! So, um, did Slughorn seem like he'll be a good teacher?"

"Well, he's got a sharp mind no doubt," Erick yawned, laying on the mattress.

"He can't be worse than Umbridge, can he?" added Harry, softly kicking Erick to move him away from his legs.

"I know someone who's worse than Umbridge," Ginny walked in sulking. "Hi, guys."

"What's up with you?" Ron questioned.

"It's her, she's driving me mad."

"What's she done now?" asked Hermione.

"It's the way she talks to me — you'd think I was about three!"

"I know, she's so full of herself..."

"You better not be talking about my mum," Mel joked.

"Can't you two lay off her for five seconds?" Ron scoffed.

"Oh, that's right, defend her! We all know you can't get enough of her," Ginny rolled her eyes.

Harry and Mel shared a confused look, and just when he was about to ask the door opened again. The boy pulled up his covers so fast that Erick fell to the floor.

"Oh," Mel said quietly, staring up at Fleur Delacour.

"Children," she said brightly. "Eet 'as been too long!"

Mrs Weasley walked in right after her, looking upset.

"There was no need to bring up the tray, I was just about to do it myself!"

"Eet was no trouble," Fleur left the tray floating between their beds and kissed her and Harry on both cheeks. Erick got up with a scowl, he shook Fleur's hand, not letting her touch him any further. "I 'ave been longing to see you. You remember my seester, Gabrielle? She never stops talking about 'Arry Potter. She will be delighted to see you again."

"Oh... is she here too?" Harry asked.

"No, no, silly boy," Fleur laughed, "I mean next summer, when we — but do you not know?"

"We hadn't got around to telling him yet," Mrs Weasley said grumpily.

"Bill and I are going to be married!"

"Oh," said Harry, looking back at Mel begging her to help him. "Wow. Er — congratulations!"

"That's brilliant," Mel was unsure of how to react, none of the other women in the room looked happy.

"Bill is very busy at ze moment, working very 'ard, and I only work part-time at Gringotts for my Eenglish, so he brought me 'ere for a few days to get to know 'is family properly. I was so pleased to 'ear you would be coming — zere isn't much to do 'ere, unless you like cooking and chickens! Well — enjoy your breakfast!"

She turned around and left the room with a joyous air, then Emily walked in, holding her son.

"Hi kids," She smiled.

Mel jumped out of bed and gave her mother a big hug. She took her baby brother and kissed him all over his small face. Mrs Weasley muttered something Mel could not hear, Ginny inched closer and started to play with Reggie's little fingers.

"Mum hates her," the girl told her, clearly talking about Fleur.

"I do not hate her! I just think they've hurried into this engagement, that's all!"

"Well, it's not like we all have time to spare, do we?" Emily asked carefully, brushing the hair away from Mel's forehead.

"They've known each other a year," said Ron crossly.

"Well, that's not very long! I know why it's happened, of course. It's all this uncertainty with You-Know-Who coming back, people think they might be dead tomorrow, so they're rushing all sorts of decisions they'd normally take time over. It was the same last time he was powerful, people eloping left, right, and center—"

"Including you and Dad," Ginny smirked.

"Yes, well, your father and I were made for each other, what was the point in waiting? Whereas Bill and Fleur... well... what have they really got in common? He's a hard-working, down-to-earth sort of person, whereas she's —"

"A cow," Ginny replied. "But Bill's not that down-to-earth. He's a Curse-Breaker, isn't he, he likes a bit of adventure, a bit of glamour... I expect that's why he's gone for Phlegm."

"That's exactly what people used to say about me and Matthew," Emily raised a brow. "Now they tell me we were the perfect couple! You see, time's all it takes to change one's opinion, I think we shouldn't talk about relationships that aren't ours."

"I think she's lovely," Mel shrugged, softly kissing her brother's cheek. "You guys are being too harsh on her. I mean, Ginny, you're beautiful —"

"I'm sorry, Mel, I have a boyfriend," She joked.

"— But that doesn't mean you're silly, does it?" Mel sat down on her bed. "Have you forgotten how nice she was to Ron after he helped her sister?"

Mrs Weasley left looking rather tired, Emily kissed Mel, Harry and Erick on the cheek before leaving, leaving Leon Regulus in the room.

"Don't you get used to her if she's staying in the same house?" Harry chuckled, staring at the way Ron was struggling to breathe.

"Well, you do... but if she jumps out at you unexpectedly, like then..."

"It's pathetic," said Hermione, without even asking she took Regulus out of Mel's hold, ignoring the girl's protests.

"I feel your pain, Ronnie, don't listen to them," Mel sighed, leaning back on the bed frame.

"You don't really want her around forever?" Ginny insisted. "Well, Mum's going to put a stop to it if she can, I bet you anything."

"She shouldn't!" Mel replied. "What would you feel if you were deeply in love with someone and everyone tried to keep you away from them? You're own family!"

"How's she going to manage that, anyway?" asked Harry.

"She keeps trying to get Tonks round for dinner. I think she's hoping Bill will fall for Tonks instead. I hope he does, I'd much rather have her in the family."

"Yeah, that'll work," Ron snorted. "Listen, no bloke in his right mind's going to fancy Tonks when Fleur's around. I mean, Tonks is okay-looking when she isn't doing stupid things to her hair and her nose, but —"

"She's a damn sight nicer than Phlegm,'' Ginny made a face of disgust.

"And she's more intelligent, she's an Auror!" said Hermione, Reggie cried a bit and Ginny took it away from Hermione.

"Fleur's not stupid, she was good enough to enter the Triwizard Tournament," Harry argued.

"Not you as well!" Hermione scowled.

"I suppose you like the way Phlegm says ' 'Arry,' do you?" Ginny huffed.

"No," said Harry, blushing a bit, "I was just saying, Phlegm — I mean, Fleur —"

"Oh, please," Mel snorted. "You're just upset because Bill is your favourite brother, Ginny — you're scared he'll stop hanging out here once he marries Fleur. Hermione, I know you're lying, you're not angry because she isn't smart enough for your standards."

Hermione blushed a deep shade of red.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Sure you don't," She grinned. "But you know she's not any of those things, I know you do. I mean, so what if she's confident, as long as she loves Bill like he deserves, right? Don't you want him to be happy?"

Ginny looked at Reggie for a long time, then she sighed heavily.

"I would like her to respect our way of handling the house, that's all..."

"That's understandable," Mel nodded. "But she's the one having to get used to the Weasleys, and if I may give my opinion, you guys are as peculiar as any French girl."

Ginny's face showed a small grin.

"In my opinion," Erick spoke casually, grabbing a toast from the tray. "Fleur's too ostentatious — but she knows how to use her charm, which means she's got a brain. Joseph told me she was a great conversationalist—"

"Can't you talk like a normal bloke?" Ron frowned. "Do you like her, yes or no?"

"I'm saying she's nice."

"Nice?" The redheaded boy asked in bewilderment.

"She's not my type," The older boy rolled his eyes.

"What's your type, then?" Ron demanded.

Erick threw a quick glance at Mel before replying.

"Friendly."

"Okay, maybe Mel's right," Ginny continued, Reggie started to get restless and she swayed him a bit from side to side. "But I still get along with Tonks better, at least she's a laugh..."

"Well, she can still come and hang out, but you can't force love."

"She hasn't been much of a laugh lately though," Ron pointed out. "Every time I've seen her she's looked more like Moaning Myrtle."

"That's not fair," Hermione frowned. "She still hasn't got over what happened... you know... I mean, he was her cousin!"

Harry quickly looked down and busied himself with a spoonful of eggs, Mel grabbed a cup of tea and drank half of it in one large sip.

"Tonks and Sirius barely knew each other! Sirius was in Azkaban half her life and before that their families never met —"

"That's not the point — She thinks it was her fault he died!"

"How does she work that one out?" Harry asked, his mouth half-full.

"Well, she was fighting Bellatrix Lestrange, wasn't she? I think she feels that if only she had finished her off, Bellatrix couldn't have killed Sirius."

Mel tried to remember, there was a huge part of that night she couldn't recall.

"That's stupid," said Ron.

"It's survivor's guilt. I know Lupin's tried to talk her round, but she's still really down. She's actually having trouble with her Metamorphosing!"

"With her — ?"

"She can't change her appearance like she used to. I think her powers must have been affected by shock, or something."

"I didn't know that could happen," said Harry.

"Nor did I, but I suppose if you're really depressed..."

Mel suddenly looked down at her hands and gulped. She hadn't tried to do any kind of magic ever since she'd come back from the Ministry, now a new fear was rising above everything else, the possibility of not being able to be as good as before because of her anguish.

"Ginny," Mrs Weasley walked in again, "come downstairs and help me with the lunch."

"I'm talking to this lot!" Ginny exclaimed, her attention quickly leaving Mel's brother.

"Now!"

"She only wants me there so she doesn't have to be alone with Fleur! Emily's too tired all the time, mum doesn't let her do anything..." The girl got up to leave the room, but Mel stopped her.

"Hey, give that baby back!" She demanded. "I was holding him first!"

Ron stood up and took the baby, claiming no one ever allowed him to play with him. Ginny turned around swiftly, mocking the way Fleur would usually move, once she got to the door she looked over her shoulder one last time before leaving.

"You lot had better come down quickly too!"

Harry, Mel and Erick ate silently while Hermione examined some boxes, Ron was now playing with Reg.

"What's this?" Hermione held up a small telescope.

"Dunno, but if Fred and George've left it here, it's probably not ready for the joke shop yet, so be careful."

"Your mum said the shop's going well," Harry mentioned. "Said Fred and George have got a real flair for business."

"That's an understatement. They're raking in the Galleons! I can't wait to see the place, we haven't been to Diagon Alley yet, because Mum says Dad's got to be there for extra security and he's been really busy at work, but it sounds excellent."

"And what about Percy? Is he talking to your mum and dad again?"

"Nope."

"What a git," Erick muttered, drinking his tea while watching Hermione examine the telescope.

"But he knows your dad was right all along now about Voldemort being back —"

"Dumbledore says people find it far easier to forgive others for being wrong than being right," said Hermione. "I heard him telling your mum, Ron."

"Sounds like the sort of mental thing Dumbledore would say," said Ron.

Mel didn't try to contradict him this time.

"He's going to be giving me private lessons this year," Harry said casually. "Mel already finished hers and he'll have time to teach me."

Hermione gasped, Erick merely looked up from his food.

"You kept that quiet!" Ron exclaimed, Mel's brother slipping from his hold without him noticing.

"I only just remembered. He told me last night in your broom shed."

"Blimey... private lessons with Dumbledore! And he said you're ready to go, Mel? I wonder why he's—?"

"Careful with Lee before you drop him flat on the floor!" Mel scowled. "I see why no one lets you hold him..."

"I don't know exactly why he's going to be giving me lessons, but I think it must be because of the prophecy," Harry continued to speak, eyes fixed on his food. "You know, the one they were trying to steal at the Ministry..."

Erick pulled out his wand and with a quick movement, his plate started to follow him around the room. He took Leon Regulus and mumbled something about the baby needing a nap and Ginny needing help back in the kitchen. Mel wished she could've left with him.

"Nobody knows what it said, though," said Hermione once the Slytherin was gone. "Mel broke it."

"Although the Prophet says —" Ron started.

"Shh!" Hermione interrupted.

"The Prophet's got it right," Harry forced himself to look up. "That glass ball Mel destroyed wasn't the only record of the prophecy. I heard the whole thing in Dumbledore's office, he was the one the prophecy was made to, so he could tell me. From what it said... it looks like I'm the one who's got to finish off Voldemort... At least, it said neither of us could live while the other survives."

She wished she could've spent at least one day without thinking about the prophecy, but Harry had to live knowing that he'd have to face Voldemort, so she couldn't complain.

BANG!

Hermione vanished behind a cloud of dark smoke.

"Hermione!" shouted the three of them.

The girl stood up, coughing.

"I squeezed it and it — it punched me!"

"Don't worry," said Ron biting his lip so he wouldn't laugh, "Mum'll fix that, she's good at healing minor injuries —"

"Oh well, never mind that now!" said Hermione, pushing it aside. "Harry, oh, Harry... We wondered, after we got back from the Ministry... Obviously, we didn't want to say anything to you, but from what Lucius Malfoy said about the prophecy, how it was about you and Voldemort, well, we thought it might be something like this... Oh, Harry... Are you scared?"

"Not as much as I was," Harry shrugged. "When I first heard it, I was... but now, it seems as though I always knew I'd have to face him in the end..."

"When we heard Dumbledore was collecting you in person, we thought he might be telling you something or showing you something to do with the prophecy. And we were kind of right, weren't we? He wouldn't be giving you lessons if he thought you were a goner, wouldn't waste his time — he must think you've got a chance!"

"Of course he does!" Mel got up, starting to pick up the pieces of the tray that had smashed when the boys ran to help Hermione. "Harry's a great wizard, we just need to teach him how to fight..."

Her friends looked at her with pity, they must've been thinking of her lifeline connection with Harry and how it could affect her, but Mel couldn't look afraid or else they wouldn't believe her words.

"Guys, we'll get through this..." Mel looked down a the tiny scars on her palm, rubbing them gently.

"That's true," said Hermione. "I wonder what he'll teach you, Harry? Really advanced defensive magic, probably... powerful countercurses... anti-jinxes... probably the same things he taught to Mel. And evasive enchantments generally— Well, at least you know one lesson you'll be having this year, that's one more than Ron and me. I wonder when our O.W.L. results will come?"

"Can't be long now, it's been a month," said Ron.

"Hang on, I think Dumbledore said our O.W.L. results would be arriving today!"

"Yeah, that's true!" Mel admitted, leaving the broken plates on the desk.

"Today? Today? But why didn't you — oh my God — you should have said —" Hermione squeaked. "I'm going to see whether any owls have come..."

Ron and Hermione left the room quickly, Harry and her were left alone, but this felt a thousand times less awkward than a year before.

"Thank you," Harry said, helping her fold the blankets.

"I didn't do anything. You know they're scared, even if they don't show it..."

"I'm thanking you because it must be hard for you as well, not to show it," He tilted his head. "Usually, you're an open book..."

"I used to be," She corrected. "My feelings are just mine, Harry, and no one else needs to know about them."

He frowned.

"Still, you know it's better not to hold things in, right?"

Mel stared at him.

"Look at you, teaching me about how to handle my emotions!"

The boy let out a chuckle and reached to hold her hand.

"It's going to be okay, Mellow."

She melted at the name, it'd been a long time since he'd called her that. She looked down again at her scarred hand, and that stirred her into talking. An idea started to take form in her mind.

"What if there's a chance you don't have to be the only chosen one?"

Harry blinked.

"What?"

"What if I am your backup?"

"H-How would that even..?"

"Think about it," Mel started. "I was there when he tried to kill you, and that's when our connection was created — it grows stronger when you inch closer to death... What if the reason we can feel each other's pain, is because it warns us about the incoming danger? What if the reason we're connected it's because I'm destined to take your place if you die?"

"But — but the prophecy said it was a boy —"

"Prophecies can change, you're not obliged to copy them exactly as they're told! Even Dumbledore thought I could be the child of the prophecy! What if, in a way, we both are?"

"It doesn't mean anything, Mel. I chose to be —"

"Who says I can't choose to help you?" She lifted her right hand. "I marked myself with the prophecy, see? If we do this together we'll have a real advantage. We even promised it back in the ministry, didn't we? If you die I take your place, if I die —"

"I make sure is not in vain," Harry had finally made up his mind. "D'you think Dumbledore knows? Do you think that's why he wants us to decide for ourselves what we'll do with our lifeline?"

"I have no idea," Mel responded sincerely. "But if we're doing this, we need to set the rules now."

Harry thought about it, then he grabbed her hands and squeezed them lightly.

"Let's talk."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @reverse-hxlland @hamiltonwc @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee @thelastpyle @cedricisnotdead @aconfusedslytherin

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

17 notes · View notes

hiscyarika · 4 years

Text

Landslide: Chapter Two

Word Count: 4.0k

Summary: Reader attends Danny’s wedding. Javier tries again to make amends.

Warning(s): Angst, Spanish (Translations at the end of the chapter)

A/N: Here’s the second chapter! I’m really excited to share this next part with you guys to see what you think. Thank you SO MUCH for the lovely responses to Chapter One. I’ve had so many lovely comments and I’m still working on responding to them all. A very special thanks goes out to @murdermewithbooks for translating all of the Spanish lines and @aerynwrites for beta reading! Thank you both so much! This chapter wouldn’t be what it is without you! Ily! ❤️

Masterlist

Tag Lists

Chapter One

(Gif by @underbetelgeuse, originally from this post) Please let me know if you’d rather me not use the gif. I’ll remove it immediately! No questions asked.

You wake with the sun as it shines through your curtains, a thin stream of light that so unfortunately hits you right in the eyes. With a soft groan, you rub the sleep from your eyes and roll from your side onto your back. Your foot knocks against something heavy, and you startle as it falls to the ground with a loud thud. Your suitcase.

“Fuck,” you curse, letting out a huff of air.

After giving yourself a few more seconds to just lie there, you push yourself up and out of bed. The ache from last night lingers still, making any movement just a bit more difficult. Your sleep, though deep and dreamless, was still not quite enough to fend off the physical exhaustion of dealing with your own emotions. But you won’t allow yourself to lie in bed all day wallowing in your own self-pity.

Once you’re standing, you look down at the packed suitcase on the floor, scowling at it for just a second. It needs to be unpacked and everything needs to go back to its place, but you elect to leave it for later. Instead, you trudge out of your room and into the bathroom just down the hall. You hope that maybe a shower will loosen up your muscles and give you the energy that you need for the day.

You flip the light on, shaking your head as you catch sight of yourself in the mirror above the sink. There’s dried mascara down your cheeks and all around your eyes. Your hair is tangled and sticking out at odd angles. To call your appearance haggard would be kind.

You sigh softly and turn around. The rings of the shower curtain scrape across the metal rod as you pull it closed. You wince at the sound, reaching in and turning on the hot water. While the water heats up, you undress yourself, leaving your clothes in a heap on the floor. You’ll worry about getting the apartment cleaned up once you’ve washed away the remnants of last night.

By the time you step into the shower, the heat is already starting to fog up the mirror. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you step under the hot spray. Already you can feel the tension seeping out of your body, flowing down the drain with the water. You close your eyes, giving yourself this moment to unwind. It’s the least you can afford yourself after seeing Javier again.

You reach out with one hand, bracing yourself against the shower wall as your encounter with him from yesterday plays back in your mind. The same panic begins to creep into your chest, but is soon replaced by anger. “It’s...It’s been a while,” he’d said. It makes your blood boil. Ten years and that was the only thing he could think to say to you. And then he’d had the nerve to call you querida, as if you’d still be his sweetheart after what he’d done.

You’ll see him at the wedding. It’s a bitter truth that you have to come to terms with and a troubling thought you would rather not dwell on. If it weren’t a Peña family wedding, you would just stay home. But no matter how much you hate the idea of being around Javier and subjecting yourself to the gossip that will inevitably follow, you won’t neglect such an important occasion.

You stand up straight again when you feel the water beginning to cool, and you make relatively quick work of getting yourself cleaned up. After shutting off the water, you pull the curtain back and step out of the shower, wrapping yourself in the towel hanging over the bar on the wall. You feel better, lighter now that you’ve gotten to freshen up and rouse yourself.

Damp feet padding gently across the floor, you go back to your bedroom, dressing yourself in a pair of jeans and a shirt, something comfortable enough to wear while you do some work around the apartment. You then haul the suitcase back onto your bed and unzip it. The clothes and other various items you’d stuffed in there come almost spilling out and you shake your head.

You start with your clothes, hanging your shirts back up and folding other garments to be put back in their respective drawers. Once that’s done, you take another pile of things to be put back in your desk. Before long, the suitcase is empty and stored back underneath your bed.

Now that you’ve given yourself a place to start, you carry on putting your bedroom back together. As things return to their rightful places, you find yourself oddly soothed. It’s calming to restore order in any way that you can.

This is one thing that you have complete control over.

—

Javier sits on the back porch steps of his father’s house, sipping silently at the beer in his hand. It’s barely the afternoon, but he doesn’t care. He hardly slept last night, and what little sleep he did get was restless, plagued by the images of your face twisted in anger and the sound of your voice, a clear warning to him as if the look in your eyes hadn’t been enough. He knows he screwed up—in more ways than one. But when brought face-to-face with you again for the first time since he left, his mind went blank. He’d said the first words that came to him, though they were just about the worst thing he could have come up with.

Behind him, the door opens and shuts again, and the wooden boards creak beneath his father’s footsteps. “¿Estás bien, mijo? Has estado muy callado hoy,” Chucho says, and Javier doesn’t even turn to face the older man as he speaks. Instead, he takes another long sip from the bottle in his hand.

“No me dijiste que estaba en pueblo,” he answers flatly.

Chucho sighs, settling himself in his rocking chair. “No ha estado de regreso por mucho tiempo. She got rejected from a publisher in Washington,” he answers gently.

Javier shakes his head. He’d once held the privilege of being able to read the things you wrote. Back then, he didn’t see how you would ever struggle to be a published author, and he’s sure that through the years you’ve only improved upon your writing skills. "Yo la ví, Papá." She...She hates me,” he finally breathes, and he feels his chest swelling with a grief he knows he shouldn’t feel. You have every right to hate him. It’s his own fault.

“¿Hablaste con ella?,” his father asks.

Javier hangs his head, putting his beer down on the step. “No me dejó hablar con ella. Lo intenté." Part of him wishes that he would have followed you out of Anita’s store, but he knows that wouldn’t have ended well.

“Ella estará en la boda de Danny,” Chucho says, and Javier’s head snaps up. He turns to look at his father in disbelief. Surely you won’t show up now, not when you know that he’s in town. You want nothing to do with him. You’ve made that abundantly clear and Javier doesn’t blame you for even a second. “Tal vez ella va a hablar contigo entonces,” his father continues.

Javier is quiet for a moment. He considers what might happen if he were to approach you. The last thing he wants to do is cause a scene, but like he told you, he needs you to understand what happened all those years ago. Even if it doesn’t change anything, you still deserve to know why he left you the way he did.

“Eso espero,” he whispers, taking another long drink from his beer and wishing that it were something much stronger.

—

You suck in a deep breath as you walk up the front stairs of the little white church. As you step inside, you realize that you haven’t been here since your own wedding, not even for a regular church service. It’s almost unnerving to be back, but you brush off your own discomfort. The ceremony won’t be long.

You pause in the foyer for just a moment, looking back down the hall where the dressing room is. You know Danny’s bride is back there, preparing for one of the best days of her life. Just like you had been so many years ago. The only comfort you find is knowing that today won’t end with the same heartbreak.

Before you can dwell on it any longer, you feel a gentle, warm hand on your shoulder. A genuine smile graces your lips as you turn and see Javier’s father.

“Mijita,” he greets you, pulling you into a gentle hug. You close your eyes for a moment, suddenly feeling much more calm than you had just seconds ago. Chucho has always been soothing that way, ever since you and Javier were just little kids running around on the ranch. You’ve always felt safe with him.

“How have you been, Pops? I haven’t seen you in forever,” you say, your smiling brightening at the fatherly kiss he pecks to your cheek. He releases you then, reaching up to straighten the signature Stetson that he wears.

His hands go to his hips as he stands in front of you. It’s no secret where Javier picked the habit up from. “I’ve been just fine, mijita. I was sorry to hear about the publisher in Seattle,” he replies. You feel a bit of heat come to your cheeks then. It never ceases to amaze you just how many people your parents manage to tell about your shortcomings with your novels.

You shake your head, letting out a soft breath. “It’s alright. It just meant I got to come back home. It’s nice to see everyone here,” you tell him, and you mean it. You’ve always enjoyed being around for Peña family events. There’s never a dull moment and you always seem to have the best time.

Chucho nods in agreement, though his expression softens. There’s compassion in his eyes as he looks into yours. “We’re all happy you’re here. It means a lot that you came,” he says. He then takes one of your hands in both of his. “I know it’s not easy...being in this place and having him back home.”

“Did he tell you we ran into each other?,” you whisper, glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, Javier is standing right outside the door, talking to his aunt.

“He told me he saw you, and that you wouldn’t let him talk to you,” Chucho replies, though his tone is still gentle, not at all scolding you for the reaction you’d had.

Your gaze falls to the floor. You don’t know how much you want to tell Chucho, even though you know he’d never say a word to Javier about any of it if you didn’t want him to. “I just… Pops, I can’t…” You trail off, knowing that now is not the time to explore your feelings about seeing Javier again.

Chucho squeezes your hand gently, shaking his head. “You don’t have to explain to me, mijita. I understand. Just...know that he wants to make things right. Even if the only thing he can do is explain himself,” he tells you. The words send a pang through your chest. You’re still not ready to hear that explanation. You’ve spent ten years trying to come up with a reason for Javier to abandon you. And even after so long, you don’t think your heart has prepared itself for the truth.

He must see the panic welling up in your eyes. “You don’t have to do anything that you’re not ready to. It’s alright,” he assures you.

Luckily, music begins to float into the foyer from the sanctuary, saving you from having to say much else. “You’re right,” you breathe. “But that’s something to worry about later,” you say, forcing a smile. Chucho lets go of your hands then, allowing you to follow the rest of the guests that have begun to file into the other room.

“Thank you,” you tell him.

He just smiles and tips his hat.

—

The wedding was a beautiful, quiet affair. You’re glad that you went, despite having every reason not to. It was good for you to see that happy endings still exist, even if you haven’t managed to get to your own quite yet.

There’s a small group of guests that make the short walk to the reception hall together. You join them, conversing about the ceremony and all the lovely details. Each breath comes a little easier than the last as you distance yourself from the church. By the time you do make it to the reception hall, you’re ready to have a good time. And so long as the Peñas are involved, you know that you will.

You step inside the building, feeling a rush of cool air wash over you. The air conditioning is a welcome change to the outside heat wave. The festivities have already begun, and you smile when you see everyone dancing and mingling and enjoying the good food that Javier’s aunts had most certainly spent forever making. You head over to the long stretch of tables yourself, your stomach rumbling in anticipation.

As you fill your plate, you chat with another one of the cousins, Luis, who moves down the opposite side, briefly catching up with each other. There’s not a single mention of Javier, which you’re grateful for. Luis invites you to sit at the same table as his family, and you follow, taking a seat next to his young boy.

Not long after you sit, however, you begin to feel a pair of eyes on your back. You don’t have to look behind you to know that it’s Javier. You’d made a point to sit far behind him and Chucho at the wedding, but there is no escape from his gaze here.

For a short while, you’re able to sit peacefully and ignore Javier’s stare burning into your back. But the feeling is unrelenting, and though you try to keep a conversation with Luis and his wife, it’s not enough to distract you forever. Eventually, you stand from the table, excusing yourself. You take your plate over to one of the trash cans, disposing of it before you head for the door, just needing a moment to clear your head.

You finally steal a glance in Javier’s direction. Sure enough, his eyes are trained on you.

You turn your back on him immediately, heading out the same door you entered from.

The sun hits right in your face as you step outside. To escape the heat, you go down the walkway to the corner of the building where the shade tree is. You find immediate relief under the broad green leaves.

You take in a deep breath, but just before you can let it all out, you hear him call your name.

“Goddamn it,” you mutter to yourself.

You turn around to watch as Javier walks towards you. There’s no hesitation in his steps, but you do see apprehension in his eyes as he comes closer. He stops just a few feet away from you, his hands on his hips as he looks at you.

“Don’t do this here, Javier,” you warn. “Go back inside and enjoy your cousin’s wedding reception.”

He narrows his eyes. “What? Are we both supposed to just pretend that the other doesn’t exist while you mingle with my family?,” he asks. You feel your anger spike at his words.

You take a quick step forward, your finger pointed at his chest. “Watch it, Peña. Just because we never got married doesn’t mean that they’re not my family too. They’ve certainly been more present in my life than you have,” you seethe, appalled that he would even insinuate that you aren’t just as much part of the family as he is.

He huffs in frustration, raking his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. That wasn’t...That wasn’t what I meant,” he sighs. “I just meant that we can’t keep doing this. You won’t even look at me.”

“Yeah, well, did you ever think that maybe I don’t want to?,” you retort.

“Can we please just talk about this?,” he pleads.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t care anymore, Javi. We’re just another notch on each other’s bedposts, okay?” It’s a lie. Every word is a lie that burns on its way out, but you have to tell him something—anything—that will get him to leave you alone and go back inside.

He laughs bitterly. He can see right through you. He’s always been able to. “That’s a fucking lie and you know it. You wouldn’t act like this if you didn’t care,” he bites back.

“Please just go back inside,” you say, your voice dropping to a near-whisper. Your tone suddenly lacks any force as you lose the will to keep this argument going.

His arms drop loosely to his sides. His shoulders fall from where they’d been so tense and straight. “Lo siento,” he breathes, bringing one hand up to grip his shoulder for a moment. “I’ll go,” he murmurs, turning around and heading back into the reception hall.

You turn away from the building, closing your eyes for a moment to fend off another wave of emotions. This isn’t the time or the place for it.

After you’ve composed yourself, you too return to the festivities. But when you walk back inside, you notice that mixed in with the music and laughter, there are a lot of glances in your direction followed by hushed whispers. Many others look between you and Javier as they talk amongst themselves. You already know what they’re saying. They’ve been saying a lot of the same things for ten years. Your wedding day went down infamously in Laredo’s history.

It takes you just a second to decide that it’s time for you to go. You won’t take the attention away from Danny and his new bride. Your eyes search the room for Chucho, and you let out a soft breath of relief when you see that Javier is not with him.

He stands as you walk over to him. Just like Javier, he can read you like a book. “I’m sorry he upset you, mijita,” he says, but you shake your head. You won’t have Chucho apologizing for Javier’s behavior or the emotions that you feel so intensely.

“I’m just gonna go, Pops. Give the bride and groom my love for me,” you reply.

Chucho smiles sadly at you, but nods in understanding. He takes his thumb, gently lifting your chin so that you’re looking him straight in the eye. “Always keep your head up, mijita,” he murmurs soothingly.

His words cause tears to spring to your eyes, but you manage a smile for his sake. “Te quiero, Pops,” you whisper.

“Te quiero mucho, my girl,” he tells you.

—

Javier is silent as he sits in the passenger seat of his father’s truck, his elbow against the door and his head leaning against his closed fist. It’s dark now, and he chooses to focus on the beams of the headlights on the road. He can feel his father’s gentle gaze every few seconds. It’s only a matter of time before he speaks.

“I already know what you’re going to say,” Javier finally says, relenting to his father’s silent pressing. He’s tired. He doesn’t really have the energy for this conversation, but it’ll happen anyway even if he doesn’t initiate it.

“No you don’t,” Chucho replies. He turns down a dead-end road, one that Javier recognizes all-too-well. He’s not at all surprised when the truck comes to a stop. Javier sighs, settling further back into the seat and turning to look the older man in the eye.

“No sé qué hacer. No quiere hablar conmigo,” he admits. He closes his eyes, running a hand roughly down his face.

“La lastimaste, Javier.”

“Lo sé, Papá.”

“No,” he says more forcefully, “no sabes.”

“Well maybe if she’d talk to me I would understand,” Javier snaps, though he immediately regrets the short loss of his temper. He knows that his father doesn’t mean to anger him.

Chucho sighs. “She’s spent so long trying to forget. And here you are, when she leasts expects it. And the first thing you do is demand to talk to her.”

“You told me to talk to her,” Javier counters.

“No. I said maybe she would talk to you.” He sighs at the correction, knowing that there is certainly a difference.

Javier huffs softly, shaking his head. “Well, we both know that’s not going to happen.” He has no faith that he’ll ever be able to fix things with you, no matter how much he wants to.

“Ten years is a long time, my son. What you did...time couldn’t heal that. I’ll never forget that day as long as I live…,” his father starts, and Javier feels his chest constrict as his father trails off. He’s gone this long without knowing what happened the day he left. He doesn’t want to hear about it now.

“Por favor, Papá. No lo hagas,” he pleads.

Chucho pays him no mind, continuing anyway. “I was the one to tell her you were gone. And at that time I didn’t know that you had left for Colombia. I wouldn’t find that out until I got back to the house that night. I held her while she cried, Javier. While she sobbed and begged to know what she’d done to make you leave.” There’s a sad, wistful look in the old man’s eyes as he relives the memory.

Javier is quiet for some time, letting the words sink into his heart and pull him down in that dark state of mind he’s known too well since the day he left Laredo. He doesn’t want to think about you that way. He doesn’t want to imagine you in that kind of pain, especially not the pain that he caused you. It’s too much for him to bear.

“Ella nunca me va a perdonar por eso.” His words are hardly audible. He hangs his head, looking down at the floorboards of the truck.

His father shrugs. “Ella podría. These things take time, Javier. You can’t expect it to be better overnight,” Chucho replies, offering some hope even when mending the rift seems like a hopeless endeavor.

Javier crosses his arms over his chest, not believing that there is any chance. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll be gone soon, anyway, and then she won’t have to worry about it.” He looks out the front of the truck then, watching the trees sway gently in the night wind.

“Ah, si. Huyendo de vuelta a Colombia,” his father muses.

“No estoy huyendo,” Javier shoots back defensively. He sits up straight in his seat again, his shoulders squared.

“Tal vez no, pero lo estás usando como un escape.” As much as he wants to, he can’t deny his father’s words. He’s right, just like he always is.

“We have to take down Cali,” he responds instead.

Chucho shakes his head, putting a gentle hand on Javier’s shoulder. It makes him relax just the slightest bit. “Eso no es una vida, mijo. Colombia ya te ha cambiado lo suficiente. Tú no eres el hombre que eras antes de irte,” he says.

He’s right about that too, but Javier would rather stare death in the face a thousand times than see the hurt in your eyes once more.

“Yo sé,” he whispers.

Spanish Translations

“¿Estás bien, mijo? Has estado muy callado hoy.” - “Are you alright, son? You’ve been very quiet today.”

“No me dijiste que estaba en pueblo.” - “You didn’t tell me she was in town.”

“No ha estado de regreso por mucho tiempo.” - “She hasn’t been back for very long.”

"Yo la ví, Papá." - “I saw her, Dad.”

“¿Hablaste con ella?” - “Did you talk to her?”

“No me dejó hablar con ella. Lo intenté." - “She won’t let me talk to her. I tried.”

“Ella estará en la boda de Danny.” - “She’ll be at Danny’s wedding.”

“Tal vez ella va a hablar contigo entonces.” - “Maybe she’ll talk to you then.”

“Eso espero.” - I hope so.

“Mijita” - My daughter (nickname)

“Lo siento.” - “I’m sorry.”

“No sé qué hacer. No quiere hablar conmigo.” - “I don’t know what to do. She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“La lastimaste, Javier.” - “You hurt her, Javier.”

“Lo sé, Papá.” - “I know, Dad.”

“No...no sabes.” - “No, you don’t (know).”

“Por favor, Papá. No lo hagas.” - “Please, Dad. Don’t do this.”

“Ella nunca me va a perdonar por eso.” - “She’ll never forgive me for that.”

“Ah, si. Huyendo de vuelta a Colombia.” - “Ah, right. Running back to Colombia.”

“No estoy huyendo.” - “I’m not running.”

“Tal vez no, pero lo estás usando como un escape.” - “Maybe not, but you are using it as an escape.”

“Eso no es una vida, mijo. Colombia ya te ha cambiado lo suficiente. Tú no eres el hombre que eras antes de irte.” - “That’s no life, my son. Colombia has changed you enough already. You are not the man you were before you left.”

“Yo sé.” - “I know.”

Chapter Three

Permanent Tags: @bestintheparsec @hail-doodles @aerynwrites @murdermewithbooks @themandjalorian @longitud-de-onda @readsalot73 @lovingtheway @talesfromtheguild @mystical-934 @tiffdawg @lokiaddicted @adikaofmandalore @blue-tidal-wave @forever-rogue @acomplicatedprofession @fleurdemiel145 @cable-kenobi @opheliaelysia @pedropascalito @creamysacrilege @bandofmarvels @paryl @phoenixhalliwell @agentmoonshine1 @randomness501 @starlight-starwrites @keeper0fthestars @stilllivindue2spite @hdlynn @theocatkov @coonflix @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @wickedfrsgrl @frietiemeloen @liadamerondjarin @pancakefancake

Landslide Tags: @b0nchan @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @mskitty79 @larakasser @pascalesque @mrsparknuts @weirdowithnobeardo @lesqui @thottiewinemom @wander-lustbabe @corrupt-fvcker @stardust-and-starlight @lcandothisallday @b0n-chann @thinemineours @smartsexycalmreflective

#javier peña #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #narcos #narcos colombia #landslide series

339 notes · View notes

gladly-be-the-good · 4 years

Text

"Hi I'm Boyd, a definitely real boy! Do you want to see the lab?" Danny raised an eyebrow as his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Suuure." Jazz smiled widely at the little boy bot and said, enthusiastically,

"We'd love to!" Boyd reached out for their hands. Jazz took his immediately while Danny shoved his hands in his pockets. Boyd didn't seem too discouraged, so Gyro wouldn't eject the moody teen from his lab, yet.

As soon as they were in another room Boyd started taking.

"This is where Dr. Gearlose first thought up the Gizmoduck armor! He made it as a tool to help around the lab, but then Dr- um, I mean, someone totally random that I definitely don't know and love, nailed it, wanted to help people all over duckburg, and beyond!"

"So he's a good person then? Not someone who would be upset with another superhero reaching out to him?" Jazz asked.

This little boy was clearly incapable of subterfuge, so his goodness was genuine. She could trust him as much as she could trust any other sweet ten year old.

"Oh yes! He loves when he gets to work with other heroes! He needs breaks sometimes and is happy for any help he can get."

"Is he someone that would approve of, I don't know, magic or ghosts or underaged superheroes?" Boyd smiled at her, taking her words at face value even as Danny, who had been listening carefully, shot them both incredulous looks.

"You've never met Mr. McDuck before have you? He employs Gizmoduck and he has a ghost butler! And a niece that used to be a spirit and is entirely magic. We even have an intern here who is.... I don't actually know, but he's really nice too! And as far as thinking kids can't be heroes, he wanted me to be one! And he works with Darkwing who has a sidekick that's twelve. Here at McDuck enterprises, we follow rule 53 in the Junior woodchuck guidebook! Greet the unknown with an open mind and an open heart."

"Wow. You people are basically perfect aren't you?" Danny asked sarcastically. He didn't like where Jazz was going with this and he really didn't need a little kid, who obviously couldn't lie to save his life, knowing a secret that would get Danny killed. Or, more killed, at least.

"Oh no, nothing is perfect. Even machines are flawed."

"So Boyd, tell me about Dr. Gearlose?" Jazz interrupted, a nervous lilt in her voice.

"Dr. Gearlose is amazing!" Boyd exclaimed, spinning in a circle with his arms above his head. Danny swore he saw a rainbow in the background. "It's a secret, so don't tell him please, but I like to call him Dr. Dad."

"He's your dad?"

"Well I don't exactly have a dad, but he was the one who created me so- I mean, in the way that all kids, are, created, dude?" Little bulb smacked his head, the sound of metal hitting glass was the only sound in the room as Jazz and Boyd both looked nervously at Danny, though Boyd was looking at Jazz too.

Poor, sleep deprived Danny, who had grown up with awkward Tucker as a best friend, just blinked slowly and said,

"So, are we gonna learn about any of the science stuff here or just your family?"

"Oh! Yes! Those two things are definitely separate things! Over here we have, uh, no that's for Gizmoduck, but this upgrade is-! Oh, no, that's for me, me phone! Yup. Me phone. Ha ha hahahaha. I'm a definitely real boy!!" The kid started shaking and looked so stressed.

Jazz big sister mode: activated.

"Boyd, come here." He ran to her without hesitation. She hugged him and said, "I know you're a robot-"

"He's a what?!"

"And we don't care. Do we Danny?" Jazz emphasized her messing with a sharp glare. Danny raised his hands in submission.

"Nope. Totally cool with the robot boy. I'm just surprised."

"How? How are you surprised by this? When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?"

"Oh come on, Tucker pretended he was secretly a robot for nine months when we were kids."

"You, aren't scared?" Jazz cooed and held Boyd tighter.

"How could anyone be scared of someone so sweet?!"

"A lot of people used to think I was bad, a lot of people still do. Even Dr. Gearlose was worried I was going to hurt people, that that's all I could do." This was a story Danny knew all too well. He looked away and scuffed his shoe against the floor.

"So, what changed?"

"I don't know, actually. One second my programming is being overwritten to terrorise the world, the next I'm being held." Danny moved his hands out of his pockets so he could cross his arms tightly against his chest.

"And you've never worried about, I mean, the guy's a scientist, robotics especially, aren't you worried he'll open you up one day to, to see what's inside? Or break you down for spare parts?' Boyd rubbed his chin.

"I, never thought about that before. I don't think he would, because he loves me. But maybe..." Boyd's chin started to wobble. "What, what If I disappoint him? What if I hurt somebody on accident and I'm too dangerous to be online anymore!?" Little bulb burned a bright red and shook a first at Danny.

"Woah, sorry, just um, stop that? Please? I'm sure your dad loves you too much to ever turn you off okay?" Boyd wiped at his eyes, even though he couldn't cry, and said, desperation and fear in his voice,

"I'll go ask him!" He jumped out of Jazz's arms and ran to the conference room.

"Boyd!"

When they burst into the room, Scrooge McDuck was standing on the table waving his cane in the air.

"Now see here you huanter hunting hooligans-!"

"Dr. Gearlose!" Gyro, the only person in the room that had still been sitting, bolted to his feet and caught Boyd as he jumped into his arms. Gyro instinctively cradled the boy bot and glared at the other kids. Boyd was literally vibrating. Fenton, who was already standing, watched with worried eyes. This was going to end badly.

"You. What did you do to Boyd?" He growled. Little bulb hopped from the chair to the table to Boyd and pat his little brother's head.

"Our kids didn't do anything! We've raised them to be fine upstanding citizens!" Maddy insisted.

"That's right! They know how dangerous ghosts are, don't you kids?" Danny felt all the emotions, guilt, regret, bitterness, jealousy, fear, resentment, building inside of him. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair for him to be angry because Boyd had parents who loved him no matter what. It also wasn't fair that Danny didn't. He was so tired of always being scared to go home. Of having to run away from his parents as they shot to kill or capture. If they knew what he was, Danny didn't doubt for a moment that the only reason they'd want him alive would be to dissect him. The fact that Jazz had been asking questions about the heroes here proved that she knew the same thing.

"In my experience," Danny said, voice carefully controlled, "ghosts are very dangerous." His parents looked over at the table of angry strangers victoriously. It was the proudest they'd seemed of Danny in a long time. Seeing Boyd, burying his face in his Dr Dad's chest, he felt the words coming out, and with them all the pain and resentment he'd felt for so long, all before he could try to stop it. "But so are people. In my experience."

"Danny, what are you saying?"

"And you don't just throw away a person because they cause you trouble!" He continued. Looking Boyd directly in the eyes as the younger boy had turned his head. "You don't break them down into usable parts, or molecules. Because they feel things and want things and love things! They're just like anyone else!"

"Danny, what has gotten into you?!" Danny walked right up to Boyd and said softly,

"The only people who don't believe that, they," Danny swallowed past the lump in his throat and the realization that came with saying the truth out loud. "They don't really love you." Boyd sniffed and held out a fist. Danny smirked wryly and bumped it with his own.

"What are you talking about? Ghosts don't have feelings, you know this."

"Do we though? Do we even know why they haunt people? Even if they are just, just bad, we don't have to tear them apart." He implored. This was the first time he'd contradicted his parents. This was the closest he would ever get to asking if they could really love him, spooky bits and all.

They weren't even looking at him anymore, they were holding at each other.

"He gets this from you, you know." Jack said, arms crossed.

"What?!"

"Well we Fentons sure don't have that kind of open mindedness."

"I'll say! Who's idea is it out Fenton before everything we own?!" Jack, clearly offended, raised his voice.

"It's called branding! It was your idea to bring the kids with us anyway! It'll be good for them Jack, they'll experience different cultures. Look at what cultural diversity did! It poisoned our impressionable son's mind against ghost hunting!"

"Well excuse me for wanting our children to be educated!"

Danny sighed and his shoulders slumped. His courage died inside of him.

"I was only kidding. Haha. Let's go back to Amity and live in ignorance for the rest of our lives." Jack's face lit up.

"Atta boy!"

"Honestly Jack, he's clearly lying."

"Danny wouldn't do that, we raised him better than to lie, at least to his old man."

"Kids, RV, now. Jack, we'll be discussing this later." She turned back to the scientists and said, professionally, "Thank you for your time, sorry it was a waste for us both." Boyd waved hesitantly, still sniffing,

"Bye Jazz, by Danny." Danny offered a single wave of his hands before slumping it the door. Jazz waited a moment after her parents were gone too. She hurried and took the card she'd made for just this purpose and handed it quickly to Boyd.

"See you soon." She whispered. She was almost at the door when Jack poked his head back in.

"Come on Jazz, we don't need these ghost-lovers."

"Coming dad." Just like that the Fenton family was gone. Scrooge, still standing on top of the table, summed up the feelings of the group pretty well.

"What in dismal downs just happened here?!"

#ducktales #danny phantom #danny fenton #darkwing duck #gizmoduck #crossover #scrooge mcduck #Boyd #jazz fenton #jack fenton #maddy fenton #fenton cracshell cabrera #dr dad #Manny the man horse #gyro Gearlose

35 notes · View notes

hiswhiteknight · 4 years

Text

Always - Jamie Reagan

Always - Jamie Reagan One Shot

Here is my first request from @lclb13 - hope you like it! It was my best interpretation!

(I don’t own the characters or gifs)

Warning: Cursing, Woman being attacked

Gif** I got from Tenor, but I couldn’t find the username.

Gif** LauraDunn1 from Tenor app

You hopped out of the shower, drying your hair, before wrapping the towel around your body. With the smile on Jamie’s face, you could tell he was awake, “You should be sleeping,” you sing to him.

He sat up, his hair all messy, “Come here,” he said trying to reach for you.

Taking a few steps, you shake your head, “Oh no, I’m not being late to work again, I know that face.”

Giving you a pouty face, he says, “Please.” You roll your eyes, letting him take your hand, “I can’t sleep when you are being so distracting.” You see the look in his eye and shake your head knowing what he is going to do. He pulled you into the bed, laying on top of you, “What will being a little late hurt?”

He tried to kiss you and you put a finger to his mouth stopping him, “Oh, I don’t know I’m a doctor, so you know death, plague, the works.” Now he is the one shaking his head, “But you sure are cute with your bed head.”

This time he just took the time just to stare at you, love gushing from his eyes, “I’m so lucky to have you,” he murmured, “I’m married to a rock star doctor.”

You put your head to his, “Yeah, I am pretty amazing,” you grin, “But it doesn’t matter how much you butter me up, I am not being late to work today.” You lean down to give him a deep kiss before bolting out from underneath him, “You need to sleep, you can’t protect this great city if you are dead on your feet.”

“Save some lives babe,” he lays back down, watching you finish grabbing your things.

You send him a grin, “Always.”

You loved being an ER doctor, it was fast pace and you had to use your head. There was a fire at a group home, so you were helping triage the victims. Burns were some of the hardest cases to handle. You were sitting with a young man with burns down his forearm, but not much damage like the others, “How’d you get these burns,” you said, trying to peel the fabric from the flesh.

You were getting the feeling something was off, he was fidgety, and you could tell he didn’t want to be there, “I don’t know, the house was on fire, maybe running away.”

“Odd,” you say out loud. You should have just finished your job. You learned in med school, it wasn’t your job to investigate, but being married to a cop and his cop family, it got even harder not to try to connect the dots. “Where these burns are, they-,” before you could finish your sentence the guy cold socked you right in the face. It took your breath away and before you could call for help, he kneed you, and tackled you to the ground. You tried to block your body and fight back, but it only took a few seconds before a guard and nurse saw the commotion and yanked him off you.

You were sitting on a gurney, trying not to be inpatient, “Come on Roxy,” you urged, “Can I be cleared to do my job now?”

“Y/N, you were attacked. Shit, you have a black eye, busted lip, and some bruised ribs. Stop being wonder woman and go home,” she fused over you.

“I’m staying in principle, nurses deal with this crap all the time and are expected to stay,” She continued to monitor your charts, trying to ignore your self-righteous speech, “You get knocked down, you get back up. I’m fine. Let’s go.”

“Y/N,” she said, not looking up from the chart she was scanning. This got your attention, something was up, “Did you know you are pregnant?”

Your eyebrows shot up, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Blood work just came back, do you mind if I do an ultrasound,” she worked quickly, not really waiting for a response. She was one of your best friends, nearly like sisters. She didn’t need your words to know your wishes. Suddenly there was a heartbeat sound, “About 11 weeks,” she said to you, “Babe don’t you monitor your period?”

A hiccup laugh left you mouth, a shot of happiness spiked up your spine, “I’ve just been so busy, make sense with the weight gain. I just assumed it’s was the Reagan Sunday dinner.”

She pointed something out which took your breath away again, “Twins, Y/N, you’re having twins,” she pulled up the ultrasound, “It’s shitty timing for your first ultrasound, but here it is,” she gushed.

She printed out the picture and you just stared at it.

“Two,” you question again.

She wiped off your belly and smiled, “Damn right, go big or go home lovely,” your friend said. Everything was blank, you didn’t know what to say, you were so happy and yet so intimidated, “You’re going to be a great mom,” she said.

You nod, “Thanks, hey do me a favor don’t call Jai-,” you tried to finish before you heard his voice.

“Damn right she called me,” he shouted, “You should have called me,” cupped your cheek examining your face. You hid the picture behind you, shaking off Roxy. You didn’t want Jamie to find out this way, under these circumstances, “I’m going to ignore the fact that I’m freaking pissed for the moment, are you okay?”

You take Jamie’s hand away from you face and hold it tight, “I swear, I’m fine. I just want to get back to work.”

“Look at your face babe,” he whispered.

Everything was interrupted by the yelling voice of Danny from the hall, “You told the family,” you roll your eyes. You look at Roxy, “You are a tattle tale, you know that,” you point at her.

“Hey, I like them to remember times like this when I need help with a speeding ticket,” she smirked.

You saw Frank first, then Pop, and then Erin, “How you are doing Y/N,” Frank asked, “Need anything?”

“Yeah,” you point to the door, “Tell Danny to leave the young man alone, he has a mental illness and needs help. He’ll do his time for his crimes. And Danny is disrupting my hospital.”

“Y/N,” Jamie whines acting annoyed.

“What,” you shoot back. “If this was you, you’d be back on the street within an hour.”

“Okay,” Pop interrupts the argument about to start, “How about we all just focus on Y/N, she doesn’t need any fights or drama right now.”

Roxy stepped in again, “Boss just got back, he says you have to take a few days off and he’ll have to be the one to clear you for duty.”

“Alright, the verdicts in, Y/N your coming with us. We can continue this conversation after we are all calm down,” Erin shared, putting her hand on your knee, “We’ll leave you to get dressed and meet you out by the cars.”

Jamie looked at you, you could tell he felt pretty helpless. And you weren’t ready to break the news to him, not like this.

It’s been two days of laying around the house and having a Reagan take care of you at all time. You and Jamie haven’t spoken much because it usually ends up in an argument. It was a mixture of being treated like you were glass and the fact that you haven’t told Jamie about being pregnant.

It was Sunday evening and you were trying to help with dinner. Danny and Pop were trying to teach you some self-defense moves, but you didn’t pay much attention. You were stuffing your mouth with mashed potatoes when the conversation of your safety became the topic, “Y/N, it can’t hurt to take some self-defense classes.”

“It was one time,” you shoot back.

Jamie looked down at his food, “You tell me all the time that nurses and doctors get attacked, bit, and spit on. It’s not one-time thing.”

You clink your fork down, “If I was a man, would you be having this same conversation with me.”

“Yes,” all the men shout.

Slamming back your chair, you stomp, “Fine, let me go find some defense classes to make the poor men in this group feel better,” and you rush to the study.

Rather than stall, you remember a few of your friends take self defense classes. Within ten minutes, you are talking to the head of the hospital and having them offer a free six-week training for all staff for appropriate self-defense training. You rush back and sliding your chair back, “Happy, the hospital will be offering a six-week self-defense class to all staff who’d like to participate?”

You continue to eat, ignoring the amazement from the people around the room, “You were gone fifteen minutes,” Danny questioned, his tone shocked, “I’d hate to see what you can do in a day.”

“Ya’ll need peace and mind, I’m here to offer you solace in regards to my own safety,” you continue to eat a slice of cake you stole from the kitchen, “But know, I can only do it for so long.”

“Why,” one of the kids asked, “Don’t you want to do it until your good at it.”

“Well Sean, I’ve got another timeline to consider.”

It hit Frank and Erin first, a smile growing on their faces, “A timeline,” Jamie asked, “What haven’t you told me, I don’t know anything about a timeline?”

Sighing, you drop your fork full of cake to reach behind you to your purse. You were acknowledging this was not how you wanted to tell Jamie and the family, but you let your frustrations get the best of you and let you slip out the news. At this point, Danny and Pops were catching on, “I didn’t want to tell you like this, but family dinner makes sense.”

You pass him the picture, Erin is in near tears, “Really,” she asked stepping out of her seat. Nicky rushed around the table and hugged you tight.

“Watch the cake, pregnant lady and dessert will cause real pain and damage if someone gets between them,” you tried to watch Jamie’s reaction.

He continued to stare at the picture. Everyone was waiting for his reaction, “Is this,” he looked up at you, nearly looking like he was going to cry, “Is this, are there two,” he questioned.

“Twins,” Danny yelled, “Nice.”

Suddenly everyone was getting up, trying to congratulate us. But Jamie and you were sharing this moment together, “Yeah, I’m 11 weeks with twins.”

He jumped up, scooping you in his arms and twirling you around, “I love you so much.”

He put you down, staring at you and only you, “I love you too.”

Pops slapped him on the back and we finally acknowledged the rest of the family. There was a giant congratulations and a billion questions, but you didn’t expect anything different from the Reagans. Jamie held you hand tightly, “You know what this means,” Danny asked out loud to the group. “You got to start learning now before you-.”

Erin stepped in, “If you like breathing, I’d recommend you keep those thoughts in your head.”

“Smart woman,” you say to her, pointing your finger at Danny.

Jamie looked down at you again, “Just promise you’ll be careful,” he said.

“Always,” you kiss him, before reaching for more cake.

#oneshot #Blue Bloods #blue bloods fanfiction #blue blood imagines #Jamie Reagan #jamie reagan imagine #jamie reagan x reader

225 notes · View notes

mymadmedleyw · 3 years

Text

Memories

Summary: Even if you try to block things out, sometimes, those things want to find you...

(ao3 | ff)

---

Dan growled, holding his head, and then grabbed the nearest pillow to cover his ear, but the echoing ringing didn’t go away and it didn’t become quieter either. He shut his eyes to force himself to sleep, trying to close it out. But at first, he wasn’t sure if he could sleep at all and- well, he either could tell if that was necessary. It would die away eventually. They had to give up, right? It was like, what? Nearly eleven? Who the hell was even calling the Fentons that late? It must have been some bored teenagers, right? A part of a stupid truth-or-dare game or something like that.

He tried to ignore the echoing noise, really, but it just didn’t want to shut it. He was even wondering if that was even real. It shouldn’t have been ringing that long naturally, right? Especially, he was wondering about how the hell the others could sleep with this damn constant ringing. Or was it just his quite sensitive hearing that he couldn’t endure it? Yeah, right, growing up along with the famous Jack Fenton-snoring, clearly built up a kind of immunity to each irritating sounds at nights, but still… But then, he gave up. He couldn’t bear this high sound any more.

Dan murmured a cursing under his nose, phasing through the floor and appeared downstairs. He looked around checking the surroundings if there was anyone nearby, or if Danny was secretly having a snack in the unlighted kitchen, but then as only the darkness was present, with no one around, he dropped invisibility. For a slight moment, he was waiting for anything to happen, but as nothing moved, he determined to aim for the damn phone, but- an eerie feeling that something was wrong slowly was crawling in the back of his mind, realising just now, here, now, everything was quiet, in almost dead silence.

“In fine!” he snapped, lifting his arms to the air, fumingly and shook his head unbelievably, then he turned around to fly back, but as he showed his back to the living room, the sound again hit his ear. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me!” Dan exclaimed, taking some harsh steps towards the room, just to stop at the small table, facing the ringing object with a raised up pointy finger. “I don’t care if Danny would be blamed for it, or anyone, I’m gonna destroy you, you piece of shit. You're gonna be wasted to the smallest atoms, and even! I’m gonna destroy those atoms too!” he threatened the landline, even if it sounded just as ridiculous in his mind as it must have seemed from outside.

He grabbed the phone suddenly from the table, holding it for a second, and then- he pulled out the line that connected it to the electricity, putting it down to its place with a quick movement. “Now, shut it!” he said then, starting a long staring contest with it, but then- the obvious winner nodded approvingly. “Just as I thought.” Dan declared his victory, and turned around, leaving the loser behind with its rather miserable fate.

He took a step ahead, deciding to go back to Jazz’s room, to his current hiding place and not thinking about this, at all, that after everything, literally after everything, a small object could annoy him more than anything else, more than any pathetic ghosts that he had met with in the past ten years, or even earlier when- but then, it rang.

Dan stopped at the spot by the noise like he would have been literally got petrified. “ What? ” he breathed out without any sound, not even realising his eyes widened in confusion and… fear. How that- it just couldn’t be, but- and then he managed to put it together, he saw it. It wasn’t the phone that was ringing now or either earlier. Yeah, it was, but- not this phone, not this phone here…

He pinched the bridge of his nose, moaning but then turned back and sat down with crossed legs on the floor, facing the unconnected landline, giving up to fight against the unavoidable.

“All right then, you’re not gonna let me alone, am I right?” he took the rhetorical question, letting out a deep resigned sigh, and took in his hand the receiver...

---

“ I know it’s you!” he barked into the phone as he, in fine, answered it. It had been ringing constantly, echoing within the empty walls, getting on his nerves in the past days. “Leave me alone!” he shouted, slamming it down, but he was too angry to hit the base of it, missing it and by that, he caught the man’s voice from the other side.

“Daniel!”

“Why can’t you just give up?!” he shut it to the desk, again and again, until it got completely destroyed. He even couldn’t tell why he hadn’t got it into pieces after the first fifty calls – or after the first few times when he had got sure it had been only the man calling him again and again, not letting it go.

Now, it was destroyed, completely wasted, and… he was just gazing at it, expecting to hear the ringing again, but nothing happened. And then, he let out a deep eased breath.

“In fine.” he whispered, and then… there was just quietness. And it remained like that. He closed his eyes to enjoy it. After that, there was now, just silence, nothing else, calmness, and… it made an almost eerie feeling like when- but no, either that time hadn’t been complete stillness. He had heard the quiet sobs, the wind blowing and… always something had made a bit of noise, but now… well, now, he expected to hear the ringing echoing from the walls or in his ears, after all, that had been constant since that, and the man had either given up trying to reach him.

He wasn’t sure for how long he was sitting there, with crossed legs, for how long he was consumed by the dead silence, got sucked by it like it had been a black hole, and he would have been the smallest atom in the universe, unable to do anything against the endless nothingness, but then- he stood up and walked to the lab, avoiding to look around in the room, only aiming for one particular box where he remembered the specialised Fenton Phone was kept.

It wasn’t yet modified to a ghost connected purpose (and either it wasn't an option any more for anything to be modified), it was just working as a simple landline if the person could connect the wires precisely. And luckily it wasn’t that complicated. It took a few minutes to make it work like the previous phone, but then he grabbed it, placing it on the small desk and changing the destroyed one with it.

For a second he was just looking at it, but after that, before he could have changed his mind, or before he could have realised what he was doing, he dialed. It might have surprised him how he had known the man’s number, but he had to admit he had seen it as much on the small screen that it must have burned into his subconscious, just to remember it now with ease. And even his far relatives hadn’t called him that much to memorize their numbers…

“ Sorry.” he whispered in a low voice, without even waiting for the other to tell anything, as soon as it clicked noting the man answered the phone. For a moment there was just surprised silence, but then a deep breath was heard, only by that he recognised, he was the one calling the man, not the other way or answering in fine for the calls.

“No, it’s… I am sorry.” the other said. “I shouldn’t- I really shouldn’t have called you that many times, that's just insane, I just...“ the voice paused suddenly but then continued. “I just wanted to apologise for not being there. I couldn’t- I couldn’t be there. And I know you think because of her and…" for a second the line remained quiet, he wasn't sure the man would finish the sentence at the end. He hoped the other was on to it because he couldn't say anything, or know what to say, but then, luckily the man spoke again, breaking the short silence. "I should have been there, I know. At the- at the funeral." he heard as the word got almost choked. "I just- I think I just couldn’t. I hope you can forgive me, Daniel.” the tone was very low now, it almost begged him.

He gazed at the floor, unsure what to say, running his fingers absently on his thigh, just to do something meanwhile, just to do something ... For a very long minute, no one said anything, but then the man was speaking again.

“I know it must be hard, and I know it must be not a bit odd hearing that from me, but- if you need anything, with anything I can help, or simply just... I don’t know-“ the thought couldn’t be finished, he immediately slurred it out, without even realising he was saying aloud his inner thoughts:

“I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to- I can’t disappear. If I disappear, they’d search for me twice as much and- and they want to talk, everyone is just always talking and- and I don't want to talk, I don't want to see their faces, those faces and- they are always coming, I don't want them to come, I don't want to-“ he shut his mouth keeping the rest rather unvoiced, and only finishing it mentally. 'Seeing them cry, comforting me and seeing them behave naturally while I- I couldn't do that.'

They all thought he was sad, devastated, so they always hugged him and touched him and everything, that they thought was helping, but- it wasn’t that, it was just about that-

"It's empty." he said then, describing rather by that how he was feeling himself, if that was a feeling at all, but he knew the man was thinking he meant the place under the note. He just wanted to be out of here, out of everything, out of this- situation. Or just be normal, like everyone else, just as even the man's voice was hollow, almost broken, even him could feel. But sure, why couldn't he? She was one of them.

The man without any hesitation, described. “I can be there within a few hours, even quicker if I fly. Wait- no. I can be there within an hour, yes, I can be there within an hour. Is it-?”

“Wait. No!” he stopped him, by that, there was a sudden pause at the line. He knew the man was waiting for him, letting him time to express the reason for the abrupt interruption. He looked around, but then he closed his eyes, mumbling under his nose explaining. “I don’t want to be here.”

There was then just silence, it seemed as the other was thinking, but then there was a breath, an almost resigning one. "I... I'll send you a car then, all right? I'll- I'll prepare for you a room here. Is it- is it good for you to- to stay here for a while or to come here?" the man inquired, hesitating. "I mean, it's... it's only a temporary solution, but- till we figure out what to do then, all right? I... You can pack as many things as you want to, or as less as you want, I won't push you or anything. I just... if you don't want to talk, we don't need to talk at all, I'll be out of your sight, if- if it is working for you, coming here. I mean it's..." the voice trailed off, but then added with a much steadier tone. "I'd be glad though, you, being here..." it wasn't finished, there was clearly a 'but', hanging in the air.

He knew what the man was meant how it must have felt for him, this offer and even, he was thinking about it too, and... but- strictly speaking, he didn't care if that was about that, he didn't care about it, not in the least. And for once, he would get right of it, get rid of this damn situation, being out of it. And all things considered, the man was (or had been?) his enemy, just because she had- that didn't mean anything, right? And to tell the truth, he didn't care about if that was about the same damn thing, getting him. The man wouldn't pester him and... that was what he wanted, someone not caring with him and... he needed someone who was not caring with him, checking on him constantly, expecting things from him and... and for sure? Hardly it was about him, about his current miserable state, it was still about getting him, right?

"Daniel?" came the question and by that, he realised he wasn't saying anything for a long time. "Is it- is it working for you? I can figure out something else if it's not..."

He shook his head. "No, it's- it's okay." he knew his voice was barely a whisper this time.

"All right then. I'll see you soon. Until then..." he was holding the phone in his hand to end the call, when he caught the man saying the last words. "hold on little badger, all right? Everything will be fine." and then, he closed the line.

---

"Liar." Dan breathed out, gazing at the phone, blankly. He was aware it wasn’t that one, but still…

His jaw tightened, raising his hand to destroy the damn landline with an ectoblast not caring that he basically was supposed to hold back his energy, but then- he lowered his arm, realising he could still recall the number.

For a long minute, he was just staring at the object again, and after that, he suddenly grabbed the phone, fingers on to dial, just to hear that voice again like- just as everything was before, before everything, but then- then he paused and just pulled back his hand, dropping it into his lap.

“No, he is not him. ” Dan reminded himself, and just by that, he felt as if a thousand tones would have been on his shoulder, imagining- imagining what would happen if once he got there, knowing it would happen no matter what. Within a few days, it would happen. He didn’t feel himself ready for that meeting, seeing the man, like- like nothing would have happened, like-

He shook his hand, recognising he wouldn’t be ever ready for that, but- he had no other choice and… on the weekend, just as Jazz had asked him to go that time, within the next few days, they would go there and then- he had to face him…

Dan stood up, feeling an urge to get an aspirin or something that could make this growing headache gone, ending somehow this damn stirring in his mind, but he knew well, for him it was not an option. That was human and- he unconsciously rubbed his chest feeling that sharp pain again, and under the movement the- he gazed at his hand, wondering for a second, but then let out a growl. No, he was just making up things.

“I fucking hate this place.” he commented, turning back to invisible and floating back to Jazz’s room, trying to occupy himself with something instead. He couldn’t tell with what exactly, but he had to find something (above that damn questionnaire or to read one of Jazz's psychology books, because no, he wouldn’t be that desperate to use those as a distraction).

If he had to count sheep the whole night or gazing at the ceiling, he would do it – sounded way better anyway than any other options he had. But then, he realised, just a little peek at that paper wouldn’t hurt, just to be aware of how ridiculous questions Jazz had come up with. Not that he would answer those, just ‘for fun’, and now, he needed something like a diversion before he abruptly would make a decision and walk there to escape from everything else. How long that would take? – he was wondering for a moment. One, maybe two days tops, even less if he hitchhiked. For that note, the idea got a strong no.

“No, not again.” he declared, moving his hand in the air to emphasize the decision and then he got out rather that damn paper from the upper drawer of the desk. Staying here, bearing with everything in this ‘familiar’ place and using Jazz as a taxi service then sounded much better than dealing with any other annoying humans who just didn’t have the ability to shut up. To close that internal debate, he got a pen too and sat back with the questionnaire to his sleeping spot, preparing himself mentally for the obviously dullest questions his ‘sister’ could come up regarding him or the future.

And on the other hand, in fine, there was just silence within the walls, accompanied by snorings from each room, and even a soft one, from a few feet away from him too. Dan for a moment cracked a smile on the recognition, and to the idea to mention to Jazz in the morning that against her hopes she inherited the 'snoring' too, but then he took a look at the handwritten questions. Getting to know how she was feeling about him, being here, sounded better than trying to sleep or dealing with an other pleasant memory, especially with the ones that involved him too. And, well… today, he had far enough with these damn memories anyway.

#dan phantom #vlad masters #dannymay2021 #fanfiction #danny phantom

19 notes · View notes