#Hurt danny

[thevoidstaredback]

Danny smiled from his place on the clocktower roof. He'd been in Gotham for a while now, two years to the day exactly, but he'd never get tired of the view. Sure, he hated not being able to see the stars at night, but there were worse things. He did make sure to leave the city every night to see them, though.

He liked being up high. It reminded him of, not simpler times, but times when he wasn't as alone. Jazz had made her way to Harvard, Tucker was MIT, and Sam was at Pomona. Danny was nowhere.

They say after he turned fourteen, he died. It, to say the least, wasn't a pleasant or painless death, though it didn't hurt past the initial shock and revival. When he was sixteen, he realized he wasn't aging. Sure, Danny Fenton aged until he was sixteen, but Danny Phantom stopped at fourteen. Good for keeping a secret identity, but horrible for wanting to half live normally.

The day after he turned eighteen, exactly four years after he died, Danny disappeared. He left everything behind and hid out in the one place he'd always said he'd avoid. It was the one place no one would look for him. The one place where he was just another face in the crowd.

Gotham City allowed Danny the anonymity that normally came with death. Instead of just another headstone in the graveyard or a body in the harbor, though, he was just another kid on the streets in a busted hoodie and jeans. No one looked twice and no one asked questions.

In the two years he's spent on the streets of Gotham, he's learned a lot. Survival was something all humans are born with, but growing up with neglectful parents amplified that instinct. Dying and becoming an unwilling hero honed those instincts. Living in Gotham gave him a chance to learn more.

Learning the lay of the land was another thing he learned very quickly. Batman is over all of Gotham except for Crime Alley. That's Red Hood's haunt. Gotham Proper was split into blurry lines and shared between Batman and Robin, Red Robin, Orphan, and Spoiler. Nightwing is over Gotham's sister city, Bludhaven. Signal is the only day shift, so he had the most ground to cover in the least amount of time.

Of course, the Rouge's all had their own territories drawn with hard, barely flexible, lines. Black Mask was really the only one to breach those lines by trying to take Crime Alley, but Red Hood had been keeping him in check.

Learning the rules for each territory and how to interact with each person, Rouge or Vigilante, took time, but he managed. His own experiences had probably helped with that.

The next thing Danny had mapped out was where the neutral stations were. Every territory had them. They were places no one attacked because the important ones have standards. In Crime Alley, it's The Club. In Penguin's area, it's the Iceberg Lounge. Ivy marked off Robinson Park. Etcetera. The Joker is really the only major Rouge without a neutral mark on his map, but that's because he's more of an asshole than the rest. An asshole with standards, but an asshole nonetheless.

Very few of those neutral areas were available to spend the night in. Even fewer we're hiring. So, the homeless population of Gotham City stuck to the streets and back alleys.

However, there were two places Danny knew he could go where he'd be safe from scrutiny if someone looked too close at him. The Club in Crime Alley where all the working girls and boys checked in and reported any Bad Johns or Bad Janes, and The Iceberg Lounge in the richer parts of Gotham.

The clocktower was where Danny liked to spend his nights when the streets were too loud and the lights too bright and the fights too close for comfort. Oracle, who was Batman's eye in the sky and ear to the ground, worked from the clocktower, but he made sure to avoid her. It wasn't easy with what's basically super hearing that he can't turn off, but he found a spot near the very top where he could block out all Bat Business. Plausible deniability and all that.

Danny misses the stars. He misses being able to peek his head out of his bedroom window and name of each constellation he could see. He can't do that in Gotham because of the light pollution that clung to the sky like black mold. It was part of the reason he'd sworn to never go to Gotham.

There are Shades in Gotham. Shadows of people who have died but aren't quite ready to move on. He helps them as best he can, but there's so many that he sometimes feels like he's cutting off a Hydra's head. He gets to see results, though. Some days the parks are more colourful, the clouds have drifted enough to let natural sunlight through, and the graveyards are buzzing with thankful energy.

Danny forwent the thought of trying to get a job a while ago. As far as the world is concerned, Danny Fenton is missing, likely dead. Being dead, in case it wasn't well known, is a legal barrier. Sure, most jobs in Gotham didn't do background checks, but Danny didn't really want to join the Goonion. He's just fine living on the streets.

Ectoplasm is scarce compared to Amity Park, but that's to be expected. Besides, the miasma crushing the city like a weighted blanket was enough to sustain his basic abilities. Food was a bit harder to come by, but, like sleep, he could survive longer without it than a living being can. If anyone were to ever ask - though the likelihood of anyone even finding out - how he was alive, his answer was "Photosynthesis, but for ghosts."

Danny liked being just Danny. No name, no responsibilities outside of keeping himself alive.

Danny Fenton, the loser nerd who fell to the bottom of all his classes, who's obsessed with space and everything in it, who could tell you exactly how long it would take to get from Earth to Betelgeuse and back, is dead. He died the day after he turned fourteen.

Danny Phantom, the hatefully loved vigilante who appeared with the throngs of ghosts, who grew more powerful with every fight, who won more fights than he thought he could because there was no other option, is gone. He disappeared after exactly four years.

Danny just exists. He lives on the streets of Gotham City, staying away from trouble because he learned how to recognize it as soon as he could walk. He loves space and finds every opportunity he can to get out and watch the stars and moon and planets. He likes heights because being up that high reminds him of when he was living and not just surviving. Was there really a difference anymore? He hangs out in graveyards and the docks because the dead are so much more tolerable than the living.

Danny liked being just Danny because Danny doesn't have the world of Infinite Realms and Possabilities on his shoulder.

Danny likes to be able to just be for once.

Storyboard Part 2

[lolottes]

Danny walked the streets of Gotham

he was hungry.

His steps were slow and I was still in pain, but under his abdominal bandages his wounds were much better.

but he was hungry.

he did not know since when he was in town.

he was hungry.

He didn't know what time it was, but an alarm sounded.

He was hungry.

but it wasn't the noise that woke him up, no, there was… a smell? no, it wasn't caught by his nose, but it made him salivate.

he was hungry.

His gums itched while his teeth took on a ghostly shape despite his human body.

he was hungry.

The smell, for lack of a better term, led him to the center of noise and bright light.

he was hungry.

as he mingled with a tense crowd he began to "see" his target even with his eyes closed. good thing because he was hungry. and his eyes must have glowed in response behind his eyelids.

he was so hungry.

the crowd seemed more than willing to let him pass as he approached his target's voice, it was so loud, it must have been speaking into a megaphone or microphone.

he was hungry, but not for long…

jokers: hoooo, we have a brave volunteer~

His food came down from its perch, probably the roof of a car. it was moving towards him, holding something out with confidence

jokers handing a microphone to Danny: a few words from our volunteer?

Danny: …I'm hungry…

His food seemed destabilized, but he continued to move closer, finally opening his eyes, seeing the reflection of their light in those of his food who had a little reflex of unnecessary recoil. One last big step and he was almost chest to chest.

The crowd didn't really know what they were looking at, the child stretched out his arm towards the jokers chest then when he pulled him back with some gently luminous light in his hands, the jokers collapsed to the ground like a puppet whose string have been cut off. Even before the jokers had finished falling, the child put the light in his mouth and a cracking sound echoed through the shocking crowd.

Danny sighed in relief, not satisfaction because it was one of the worst things he had ever eaten. But he feels SO MUCH BETTER now!

he wasn't hungry anymore

… For now

[artemismoorea03]

DCxDP or Marvel: I Did

Inspired by a tiktok audio that was apparently off of a Friends episode, and holy fuck my heart.

Danny hadn't been on the team very long, a few months at most. The team didn't know much about their newest and youngest member who was still just a kid. A teenager with so much power under his belt that they would be stupid not to keep him on the team. But he was just a kid.

He had a lot to learn.

At least... they thought he did.

He had taken a hit on the field for Superman/Captain America, one that had caused quite a bit of damage to the teen but could heave easily killed the hero. Phantom was fine, able to shake it off and didn't so much as complain about the hit other than a quiet "ow" when it happened.

But when they got back to base things changed slightly when Phantom stumbled and had to physically brace himself on a wall, the fifteen year old kid catching his breath and shrinking away from every hero who offered him help.

"You were an fool out there, I could have taken that hit." Superman/Captain America said when Phantom again moved away from Black Canary/Black Widow when they again tried to convince him to sit down and at least get looked at. "What would we have done if you'd gone down, huh? You could have been captured! They could have tortured you or killed you."

Phantom just glared at him, "And what about you, huh? You were in charge of that mission and if you went down we would have been left without a leader. Besides, you act like I broke some kind of sacred code but you could have been caught or killed too and you would not do well under torture!"

"Oh and you would?!" Hissed Superman/Captain America, feeling foolish for arguing with a child.

"I DID!" Phantom said, barring his fangs.

The temperature in the room dropped, it got eerily quiet until finally Batman/Tony Stark stepped up and defused the situation.

As it turned out... they still had a lot to learn about their youngest member.

[fuyuthefoxwriter]

The young king fled, leaving his old life behind with the people he used to call family, to much of a monster for them to love

Amazing lineart by @thestarsofpines

[metalatias5]

"Shit.."

Changing back mid-flight due to an especially bad wound is not an ideal situation

I mainly wanted to try my hand at glowing ectoplasm-blood and a mid-transformation piece (also with how much I love hurting my favorites it's about time I actually drew Danny hurt)

[deathlysilent13]

DPxDC Fic Snippet: Selina Finds Hurt Danny

(Basic backstory for understanding: Selina finds Danny hurt. This is absoltuly a Bad Fenton Parents WIP. He's hurt enough that he's retreated into his core and Selina took him home and has been keeping him safe until he can reform.)

Morning dawns and leaves the cat burglar behind. She doesn’t rouse until just after 11, as per usual, but when she starts to stretch out, she notices a weight on her chest that hadn’t been there before. She nearly panics, opening her eyes to see fluffy black hair. Confused, she tilts her head to look over the face attached to all the fluffy locks and has to bite down fresh panic at the literal child curled up on top of her. She’d rescued a teenager with white hair, and somehow ended up with a possible black-haired toddler.

The boy stirs, groaning lightly, and only then does she look over at her nightstand to see the little nest she’d made for her orb empty. “Oh,” the boy whispers, sounding like it hurts to speak. 

Selina sits up slowly, keeping one hand wrapped around the boy. She won’t just fling him onto the floor like an unruly cat, after all. This is still a child, even if she has no idea where he came from. The boy stays curled against her, only whimpering once in pain. Selina’s concern grows. 

She shuffles her pillows around so she can lean back just enough to keep the boy lying comfortably while still being upright enough to try and talk to him. “Good morning,” she says softly, not wanting to alarm the boy. 

He nuzzles into her sternum briefly before finally looking up and pinning her with stunning cerulean irises. “You’re the one who found me, right?” he asks softly, still very clearly hoarse. 

Selina nods. “If you’re the white-haired teenager we pulled off that silver boat, then yes,” she replies, needing the confirmation. 

The boy sighs, his eyes closing again. “I didn’t….I’d hoped……” he murmurs, likely to himself. She cards her fingers through his hair, gently detangling as she goes. She wants to push, to know what was going on, but whatever had made him young may also send him running. She knows all too well how well untethered children fare in Gotham, after all. 

They lay quietly for some time. “My parents didn’t know,” the boy finally murmurs again. “Not for ages. I thought they’d love me more than they hated ghosts.” She feels the shudders first, but it doesn’t take long for the tears to start soaking her shirt. She expects to be mildly disgusted, at least, but finds as she sits there and holds him that all she feels is sorrow. No one should be broken of the belief that they’re a parent’s priority. 

She doesn’t do anything but pet him until his stomach rumbles, and hers answers. Even with his face still smushed against her sternum, she can see his face going red. “I should still have some leftover pizza,” she says, grinning when his head pops up with much more enthusiasm than she’d seen from him thus far. “Come on, up with you. There should be a spare toothbrush, and then you can decide if you want food first or a shower.” He doesn’t go far, but all she really needs is for him to slide off. 

She scoops him up, warming at the way he squeaks and flails but curls back into her anyway. She takes him into the bathroom, letting him sit on the counter while she pulls out a fresh toothbrush. Thankfully, he doesn’t argue, and the whole ordeal goes quickly. He blushes red again, however, when he asks if he can stay for a minute and points to the toilet. Far from being bothered, Selina simply ruffles his hair and tells him to wash his hands when he’s done. 

She’s in the kitchen, a nearly full box of cold, mismatched pizza from the previous night giving him options when he wanders through, clearly hesitant. She gestures to a chair, trying not to baby him since he is, or was, a teen and she remembers all too well how each of the Robins got about their independence. She won’t intrude if she doesn’t have to. 

He climbs up, eying the box, and she does nothing more than take a second slice out and slide it over. “Help yourself,” she says as though it isn’t important. “I don’t usually have leftovers when the girls come over, so I’ll probably forget I have it anyway.” It’s a bit of an exaggeration, but it has him digging into the food with enough gusto that she’s probably right in it being entirely too long since he had actual food, and she’ll happily sacrifice an entire pizza to him if it helps. She’s gonna have to ask the hard questions soon enough anyway. 

[sirpeachess-casual]

Who Killed Danny?

a glitch in time got me re-reading my old ass one-shot/drabbles and found that i really wanted to post this one :) it's a long one >:) and a sad one >:}

warnings for lots of angst (sort of off-screen character death), torture (again, sort of off-screen), and lots of body horror (clone-style) + vlad being evil

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

When the Ghost King screamed, everyone heard it. Clockwork was catapulted out of a deep meditation, books falling off the shelves around him. The Far Frozen rushed out of their homes, gathering in the town square to sing and pray around their alters. Wulf whimpered and covered his ears, eventually howling along with the dissonant tones. Even Skulker paused polishing his equipment, wondering if he was above taking advantage of their halfa king's current state.

Out of the Ghost Zone, Elle Fenton was snapped out of her hedonistic pursuits. She bolted upright in bed, screaming in a voice that wasn't hers. A thousand shouts tore from her throat, a thousand whines of agony ripping her apart from the inside out. It died off with a whimper, leaving her breathless and shaking. The meager possessions she had amassed during her travels were splattered against the far wall, scattered as if caught up in a horrible whirlwind.

"What..." she gasped. She had only ever heard the Ghostly Wail one time before, and had never been able to produce it herself. And while that first and only time had been bolstered by an undying sense of protection, a deep-seated need to keep her safe, this had been different.

This was pain and despair.

"Danny!"

Transforming, she blasted off the ground, zooming through the air as fast as her ghostly self could move. There was only one person she trusted to find Danny and not immediately tear him limb from limb. She needed to find Valerie.

Hundreds of miles away, Valerie was suited up. Her armored knee was bent into the back of some back alley ghost, an electrified garotte wrapped tightly around its throat. She was demanding information on how to get into the Ghost Zone, information this 30s-era ghoul was denying her.

"I know it's possible for humans to get there!" she hissed, tightening the cord. "Tell me how and I won't snap your head off before sending you back."

"I-I don't know!" the ghost choked. "I don't know what you're talking about! You're one crazy dame!"

"Don't lie to me!" Pressing a button, the cord lit up with electricity. It was a small amount, just enough to zap. She had all night to get information, after all. No need to cause real damage just yet.

The ghost under her feet, however, started howling.

Valerie was taken aback. "Oh calm down, ghoul," she berated. "That's barely enough to burn."

Still, the agonized screams forced her to loosen her grip - just slightly. She had been doing this for a long time and had made these foul creatures emit all kinds of noises before. Screams, whimpers, whines, all sorts of begging and promising. But this, though, was primal. This couldn't have been faked, no matter how good of an impersonator this ghost was.

"It's him!" the thing cried. "Our king!"

Valerie blinked. As far as she had learned, ghosts didn't have any kind of royal hierarchy. She hadn't heard of any unionizing leader or governmental figurehead before. Who was it? And how did this ghost suddenly know that it was in danger?

"Your... your what?"

But the ghost was no longer listening to her. It had seemingly gone rabid, driven crazy by its recent discovery of the so-called king being in trouble.

"Hey!" Valerie gasped, leaping backward to avoid its sweeping tail. "Calm down!"

"Our king! Our king!" it kept bellowing, rolling and clawing, desperate to escape.

"What are you talking about? What king?"

"The halfa king!" She froze. That word... she hadn't heard that word since... that night. "What - what do you mean? What halfa?"

Before it could answer, the ghost managed to wriggle free. Its tail slapped Valerie across the chest, sending her flying backward.

"Hey! Get back here!" she threatened, climbing to her feet as the ghost climbed into the sky, screeching the entire time.

It was gone.

"Dang it!" she hissed, stomping in anger. There went the best lead she had gotten her hands on in weeks. Not only that, now she had more questions than ever.

And that word.

The word that she had heard for the first time that one night in Wisconsin. The word and that night she had been running from for so long now. Secretly, she had hoped that ignoring the memories would make them go away; denying the existence of half-human, half-ghost hybrids would let her world go back to the easy-to-handle black-and-white way the world - and her place in it - used to be.

But now, after all this time, it was back. And it was literally shouting in her face.

With a sigh, she figured she had been running long enough. The mythical Ghost Zone wouldn't be going anywhere. But apparently, this halfa king was.

Typing away on her wrist, she summoned all the research and notes she had done on the subject - which was very little. In order to get more information, she would need to go to the source. Or, at least, the only source she knew of. She needed Danielle (or Elle, as she was apparently going by these days).

Leaping into the air, her hoverboard materialized under her clicked heels, and she took off into the air. It had been so long since she had seen that little twerp, what were the chances she would be able to find her again?

"C'mon, brat. Where did you run off to this time?" she muttered. Her visor recalibrated, narrowing the search parameters to Elle's ecto-signature.

Immediately, everything started flashing red.

"What the-" She looked up, focusing past the screen in front of her face.

Just in time to dodge to the right, barely avoiding colliding with the ghost in question.

They shouted each other's names in surprise, with varying degrees of annoyance and urgency.

Valerie recovered first. "What are you doing-"

"I need your help!"

The hunter blinked at that. Today was just full of deja vus, wasn't it? "Are you melting again?"

"No! No, it's not me, it's-" the ghost girl froze, too-vivid-green eyes flickering to the invisible distance as if she was looking at something only she could see. "We need to go, now!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Valerie scolded, grabbing the ghost by the arm. "Go where? Help who? What is this about?"

"It's Danny!"

"Danny? Danny who?"

"Ugh!" Elle rolled her eyes, palm slapping her face. "Phantom? Invis-o-Bill? The Ghost Boy?"

Valerie blinked, physically taken aback. "Phantom?" she gasped. "What does he have to do with-"

"Please, he needs our help! He's in trouble - you have to find him!"

This train was getting out of control. Valerie crossed her arms, squaring her shoulders against the little ghost's panic. "I don't have to do anything! You haven't told me what's going on, what you're doing here - or why I should help!"

Dani blinked at her. "You're kidding, right? Now is the time you want a receipt?"

Valerie jammed a finger into her face. "Hey, don't reappear out of the blue and start demanding I bend over backward to help you freaks! The only reason you aren't in a containment cube right now is because you're different and you know it. I have no obligation to help you, or Casper the Friendly Ghost, or anybody. Especially not Phantom!"

The ghost girl growled in frustration, pulling her long white hair. (Valerie found herself having to remember that this creature wasn't human, not really, no matter how real she seemed.) "You're insufferable, you know that! How many times have I asked anything of you? Or Danny, for that matter? You don't hear from us, ever, we let you do your whole ghost hunter/destroyer routine without interfering-"

"Hey, I am a professional ghost hunter! I don't need permission from the likes of you to do my job!"

"And I'm trying to do mine!"

"Oh, and what's that? Dragging me around on some ghoulish scavenger hunt to find some public menace I would just as soon shoot myself?"

"Trying to save my cousin's life!"

"Phantom is a ghost!" Valerie shot back. "He doesn't have a life to lose."

"He's more human than you will ever know!"

The hunter scoffed, crossing her arms. "As if. As far as I'm concerned, Phantom is a good-for-nothing troublemaker. Don't act like he hasn't destroyed property or wrecked lives, not to mention kidnapping the mayor and going up against the Fentons themselves. We all saw him rob that jewelry store. Seriously, that freak has issues and if someone finally got the better of it then all I'm gonna do is offer to shake their hand."

Elle stared at her and for a moment and Valerie almost thought she saw real emotion in the bright green eyes. The ghost girl put on a convincing display of shock and hurt but it wasn't enough to dissolve Valerie's rage. It did at least slow her down long enough to consider her options.

The ghost girl sighed. "Listen, I don't know what he did or said last time to get you to help when I was literally melting into nothing, so can we just pretend I have his same people skills and that you do, actually, have enough of a heart left to give a crap? Because he is in danger. And pain." She shuttered, wrapping her arms around herself tightly. "...So much pain. And I can't explain why or how I know but I do. And I have to help him. But I can't find him on my own." The girl blinked and her trepidation was replaced with a fierce determination. "If you want to shake the hand of whoever is killing him, fine! Ask for a selfie for all I care! But at least give me a chance to save the only real family I have."

Valerie frowned, considering the plea. Someone should tell the ghost girl she did, in fact, have her cousin's persuasion skills. It was almost the same line, word-for-word, that Phantom had fed to her all that time ago.

She had fallen for it then.

She wouldn't be duped twice.

Though, she had to admit, the possibility of meeting the ghost hunter capable enough to finally take down the menace that was Phantom was a tempting offer. And she couldn't shake the feeling that this was somehow connected to that king nonsense from earlier.

That was a mystery she couldn't just ignore.

"Fine..." she eventually agreed. "I will help you find him - it. But only that! If Phantom really is in trouble don't count on me lifting a finger to help. In fact, I can't promise I won't make it worse."

Elle grinned, overjoyed. "Yes! Thank you, thank you! Just get me to him and I can take care of the rest!"

Valerie doubted that much, especially considering that the last time she saw Elle, the ghost girl resembled a snowman in the desert more than a ghost.

Still, she shrugged. "Let's go, then."

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Unsurprisingly, and to the knee-weakening dismay of Elle, her cousin's ecto-signature lead them straight to Vlad Masters' mansion. It was a long flight, even with Valerie's hoverboard going at top speed, and the longer they spent in the air the more and more Valerie hoped this trip would be worth it. At this point, she wasn't just expecting a selfie; she wanted a chance to punch Phantom herself for all the trouble this was turning out to be.

And no, she wasn't just being mean because she was nervous about going back to Masters Mansion.

As soon as it came into view, Danielle slowed nervously. "Are... are you sure he's in there?"

Valerie checked her HUD. "Yup. His ecto-signature is coming from those coordinates."

The ghost girl sighed. "If he's in there, you can turn off the tracking. I know where he'll be."

Valerie frowned but complied. The mansion was huge and the less time they had to spend pacing the endless halls the better. "You haven't been here since that night, right? So how can you be so sure?"

Gulping, Elle continued forward. "Just trust me on this."

"Uh huh," Valerie replied, unimpressed. "You're down to your last IOUs, you know that? This better be worth it."

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Carefully, they made their way forward. The exterior of the mansion looked fine, untouched and unscathed. Except for the ground along the Western wall. The dirt was cracked and bulging as if an explosion had gone off under the earth. It was the only anomaly in an otherwise pristine exterior.

"The basement," Elle informed unnecessarily.

Of course it was the basement. The images of that secret underground lab had plagued the back of Valerie's eyelids ever since that night. She'd rather give up her hoverboard than go into that basement again, but a promise was a promise.

They entered through the main entrance, stepping across the threshold into the large expanse of blackness. Every flat surface was dented and cracked, glowing green and red slime splattered across the room. The gore acted like so many morbid nightlights, illuminating the floor and walls as the industrial lights overhead flickered and failed to come to life.

Valerie took a step forward, her armored foot slipping on the tile. She yelped involuntarily, Danielle being quick to keep her from falling.

"Ugh, stupid ectoplasm," the hunter muttered. With a tap, she turned her headlamp on and looked down to inspect the damage.

Surprisingly, she hadn't slipped on gore like she had expected. In actuality, the slick tiles were covered with a thin layer of frost and ice. And then she realized how cold it was in here. Cold temperatures were to be expected when it involved the supernatural. Ghosts dropped the temperature of the room and ectoplasm would destabilize if overheated. She knew from experience - labs in particular were kept fairly cold to keep the samples and specimens docile. This lab, though, was beyond those levels of cold. It was downright frigid in here, the icy air seeping through the thermals in her suit.

She shivered. "Why's it so cold in here?"

"I don't know..." Elle replied. "I don't remember it being this cold last time."

Dissatisfied, they continued forward, Valerie having to pick a path through the destroyed equipment and containment cages. She didn't know a lot about this Plasmius character that had apparently been haunting Vlad Masters' basement, but she very much disliked him. And for good reason; he was more sinister than anything she had faced before. If Phantom had been in his clutches, she almost felt bad for him.

It.

Almost felt bad for it.

Suddenly, a hologram crackled to life, making the two investigators scream in surprise. "Welcome back, sugar lumps!" it greeted cheerily.

Valerie blinked at it. "Mrs. Fenton?"

Elle, though, seemed unfazed by the fact that this AI perfectly resembled one of the world's most notorious ghost hunters. Or its apparent proclivity for pet names.

"Where's Danny?" the ghost girl questioned, rounding on the projection. "What did Plasmius do with him?"

Valerie reached forward, intent on telling the ghost off. Surely this thing couldn't speak back. It was probably set up to a motion sensor or something and programmed to give some pre-recorded greeting or update. It couldn't actually speak.

Except then, it did: "I'm so sorry, apple fritters, but I'm afraid I don't recognize your wonderful voice! Please confirm it's you, butter bread."

"Ugh. It's me? Elle? Danielle Fenton?"

Valerie blinked. "Fenton?"

"So sorry, cream cakes. Please try again."

"Danielle Fenton! Why don't you recognize me?"

The hunter stepped forward. "Phantom?"

"What?"

"Enunciate. It sounds like you're saying Fenton."

The ghost rolled her eyes. "Of course!" Pivoting, she faced the hologram again. "It's Danielle. Danielle ...Masters."

The hologram beamed brightly in response. "Thank you so much, candy cane! I'm so happy to have you back!"

"Yes, great. Me too. About Danny though - where is he?"

It blinked at her. "Oh, I'm so terribly sorry, rice cakes. It seems all of the clones have expired."

Elle paled visibly.

Behind her, something caught Valerie's eye and she stepped off the investigate.

"I - I'm not asking about a clone..." Elle argued. "I want Danny. The real Danny! MY Danny!"

Valerie rounded a tossed-over fridge, eyes widening as she saw what was beyond. "Um, Elle?"

"Your search parameters are unclear. Please specify."

"Danny! Daniel!"

"Danielle!"

"What!"

Valerie jerked her chin forward, prompting the ghost girl to float over and investigate. As a clone herself, one who had melted and personally witnessed a multitude of failures before her succumb to the same fate, nothing could prepare her for what was waiting around the corner.

"I think I know why it couldn't find the one you were looking for..." Valerie offered as they took in the scene. The room was covered in what Valerie could only describe as living (but rapidly dying) corpses. They half resembled the Phantom character she had grown to hate, but something about their dilapidated features looked much more... solid. Much more human.

They almost reminded her of Danny from school. The Fenton kid she had tricked into going out with her a few times.

One monstrosity was gasping for breath on an exam table, its innards exposed and melting. Another was slumped inside a large containment tube, its wrists still shackled in place above its head. More were piled on each other, moaning and wheezing, in various states of decay. In the corner was a pile of similar incubation tubes, green and red slime dripping from cracks in the glass.

"What the hell..." Valerie gasped. This was unlike anything she had ever seen. Sure, she knew ghosts could melt. She had seen it with her own eyes. She'd even caused some creatures to destabilize slightly a few rare times before, back before she knew what she was doing, before she could stop her methods from getting out of hand. She'd shocked and prodded and, sure, she'd seen some ghoulish insides and been up to her elbows in ectoplasm more times than she could count. But this... these corpses, they looked completely different.

For one thing, they were alive. Or at least badly pretending to be. They moved and whined and she heard wet wheezes bubble out of one that had to have been drowning in its own fluid. For all intents and purposes, they seemed to be in pain. As if they were dying.

But once she got closer, she got a better look at their physicality. Which would best be described as... physical. Usually, ghosts were otherworldly. They were cold and defied gravity by nature and she could stick her hand through one if so inclined with very little resistance. They lacked the normal rigidity that humans did; their bones and muscle structures were different. When she punched a human in the arm, she felt layers of skin and muscle and bone (if she hit hard enough.) Punch a ghost, however, and it felt more like hitting a bag of stiff gelatin. It bounced back and it molded to her fist, like thick liquid poured into a sleeve.

These clones, though, were a mind-boggling mix of both of those realities. The gelatinous qualities of ectoplasm remained, except it somehow adhered to a surprisingly human-looking bone structure. Gravity pulled on their flesh and limbs and wispy hair, but she could still see the cracked floor tiles through them if she looked hard enough.

They were ghosts.

And they also weren't.

What was obvious, though, what she knew beyond a doubt, was that none of them were Phantom.

Also, they were dying. Slowly and painfully.

Before she realized it, she was kneeling before one mangled corpse, sweeping her scanner over its twisted remains. It huffed curiously at her, its one working eye watching her movement curiously.

She shushed it, fighting the urge to run her hand through its goopy hair. It looked so much like Danny (from school) she almost couldn't take it.

Behind her, Elle had recovered from the horror show around them much quicker than Valerie had. The ghost was zipping from pile to pile, asking for Danny, wondering where her cousin was.

The hologram materialized beside Valerie and she had to bite back her growl. "What happened here? Who did this?"

"Would you like to watch the security footage, pumpkin bread?"

The clone at her feet gave one last wheeze. She could have sworn its eye flickered a familiar blue before going dark.

"Yes."

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

The two gathered around a tiny monitor, the only operating screen in a 4x5 set of them, watching curiously as the AI of Maddie Fenton rewound the footage to "about fourteen hours ago," as Elle had so helpfully supplied.

Shortly, they had found the right scene: The lab was in order, neat and arranged. A stark contrast to the disaster they had walked into. The floors were polished and the equipment was arranged in a way that must have made sense to someone. Valerie recognized the portion of the room they were looking at now as the same area they had found the corpses in. The containment tubes lined the walls, the pile of discards already starting to grow. The exam table was off to the side.

What threw her off, though, was the additional piece of equipment that simply didn't exist in the present. It clearly had been the centerpiece of the room before whatever had happened had happened. Looking at that spot on the floor now, she realized that's where the explosion had come from. The icicles clinging to every surface pointed to this spot as their origin. Even the cracks in the floor started there. It was the epicenter. But what had happened here?

As the recording continued, they saw a figure bent over the piece of equipment. A second, smaller humanoid was strapped to its surface, squirming and wriggling against the restraints. It was mostly obscured by the looming silhouette, though its clenched fists and... red sneakers(?) were visible. The taller figure - Valerie could almost be convinced it was Mr. Masters himself, what with the gray hair and black suit - was hard at work putting its captive through hell.

Valerie recognized some of the techniques and tools being used. She had wielded her own makeshift versions before - except, to her credit, she had done so with much less... mangling than this person was. While her methods were meant to pry information, the figure here seemed to delight in causing pain. They wanted something, she could infer that much, but she guessed at some point their original purpose of hurting to get information had warped into hurting for the enjoyment of it.

It made a small part of her stomach turn. When she was working, she could separate her captive from itself. They weren't human. And the closer she got, the more obvious it was.

With this distant view and grainy sound quality, though, she could be tricked into thinking the captive's screams were, in fact, human. They certainly seemed genuine.

"How long had this been going on?" she wondered aloud.

"The most recently processed experimentations began the first Thursday of this month, sweet tart."

"That's over a week ago," Elle gasped.

"Thirteen days, to be precise, goose lips."

"Unbelievable..." Valerie sighed.

Danielle wiped her eyes, forcing herself to refocus. "Fast forward to the scream."

Valerie frowned at her. "The scream?" she asked, but before the ghost girl could answer, the footage reached the intended time stamp and the AI started wailing.

The two investigators reeled back, covering their ears against the sudden noise.

"What's happening?" Elle asked, wincing as the screeching tore through her head.

Valerie turned to the AI. "Hey! Hologram! Shut it!"

It refused, continuing the ear-piercing scream.

Suddenly, Elle had an idea. "The footage!" she gasped as if Valerie had any idea what she meant by that. "Maddie! Pause the recording!"

Instantly, the room went quiet. It was so sudden it left their ears ringing with the delayed echoes.

"What did you do?" Valerie demanded, watching suspiciously as Elle approached the many monitors.

"She was trying to translate."

Still, Valerie was lost. "Translate what? A banshee listening to heavy metal?"

"No. The wail. Maddie," Elle turned to the AI and Valerie really wanted to tell her to stop calling it that, "resume the footage. But muted this time."

"Muted footage will not be translated. The translation may be lost, lamp chops."

She sighed. "Then let me listen to it. The actual sound, not the translation."

"Elle, what're you-"

"Can do, kind heart! And what a wonderful idea, too!"

This time when they pressed the play button, they heard an entirely different yell: it was the voice of a human boy, one that was strained and crying and in immeasurable pain and fear and sounded so much like Danny (from school) that Valerie had to do a double take.

"Vlad, stop! You don't know what you're doing!" he was pleading. He sounded like, well, like he had been screaming his way through thirteen days of torture.

The taller figure hovering over him was undeterred. If anything, it seemed more and more excited the harder its captive squirmed and begged.

"No one knows what this will do, Little Badger," it teased. "Least of all those idiotic parents of yours. Oh, imagine how excited your mother will be when I present this bombshell of a scientific discovery to her! My sweet Maddie, finally leaving that moron of a husband for the man she deserves - the man that will compliment her immense intelligence instead of constantly bringing her down with his buffoonery."

"Dude," he wheezed, "there are, like, a million other less insane ways of getting my mom's attention. Write her a letter, rent a billboard - hire one of those sky writers! Anything but this." A wet hacking sound garbled the audio. "Please."

"I'm disappointed in you Daniel. Aren't you your mother's son?" They leaned over their captive, snickering menacingly. "Don't you want to, what is that ridiculous phrase your father keeps shouting, 'rip it apart atom by atom'?"

The boy coughed harshly, his strained vocal cords creaking. "It's - and I can't believe I'm about to say this - 'tear it apart molecule by molecule' and no! I don't! I rather like being me - the not-cloned, not-ripped-apart version."

The captor sighed. "And that's where we differ, Daniel. Unless you choose to be with me, and your mother, this version of you simply won't suffice. So I must make the version that will. I will clone you, Daniel. And from your grave will rise the perfect son - MY perfect son!"

There was a pause as the figure on the table resumed tugging at the restraints in a renewed sense of panic.

"Vlad - do, do you hear yourself? Do you hear how crazy you sound? Snap out of it! You don't want this. You don't want to... to kill me."

"Again, you're wrong." The taller figure suddenly pulled out a giant pair of clawed gloves. "I'm not killing you, Daniel. That would involve ridding the world of something it would miss."

Suddenly, the captor plunged the claws into the boy's chest.

And then the wailing started.

"It... it's cold," Danielle said quietly.

Valerie frowned at her, startled by the unexpected words. "What is? What's he doing?"

"...His core..." the ghost girl collapsed to her knees, suddenly too weary from the shock of it all to stay floating.

Valerie was at her side in a moment, checking her for injuries.

"That's what my dear Vladdy-poo was digging out," the hologram chimed in happily. "Quite the genius, my honey biscuits." It waved its hand, the other monitors displaying coordinated sections of a larger image. "Every ghost has a core; it's the source of their power and life force! When fudge nutters tried to extract Little Badger's core, there was an explosion!"

"An explosion?" Valerie questioned. "What kind?"

"The cold kind! It froze everything and destroyed everything else. It was catastrophic!" It clapped its hands together. "Isn't that fun?"

"Danny..." Danielle muttered. "Maddie! Where is he? What happened to him?"

"Unknown!"

Valerie leapt to her feet, really wishing she could punch a hologram in the face. "What do you mean unknown? You have to know! You're this place's security or something."

"Unknown!"

Teeth grinding with determination (and more than a little bit of rage), Elle climbed to her feet. Slowly, her weightlessness came back, lifting her into the air. "We have to find him!"

Valerie held out her hands. "Whoa, ghost girl. We aren't even sure there's anything left to find. You heard what happened. I mean, look at this place! If he survived, then where is he?"

"I... I don't know. But I know he's out there!"

"How? And don't say I have to trust you on this. I've been trusting you and look where it got us! Unless you start explaining and start right now, I am not taking another step."

Elle's shoulders slumped. "You... you wouldn't understand. Danny - Phantom - he's... he's different."

"Oh, I'm sure he is. What, does he donate to a local dog shelter? I bet he serves soup to the homeless on the weekends when he's not too busy terrorizing the city."

The ghost turned her back to Valerie, arms crossed. "I knew you wouldn't understand. Even if I told you, you still wouldn't help."

Valerie mirrored her pose, swinging a hip out to one side. "You're darn right I wouldn't help! You ghosts are all the same. You show up out of the blue, stick your noses into our business, and then get mad when we want you to leave."

"Not all of us."

"Sure, ghost girl."

Elle sighed. Then, she huffed. "Fine."

Valerie raised an eyebrow at her sudden determination. "Fine what?"

The ghost turned on her, using her flying height to hover over the hunter. "I tried to be nice! I tried to do this the right way - to appeal to your humanity, your sense of preservation, your heart. But clearly, I misjudged you. Clearly, you're too wrapped up in your own drama and angst to care about anyone else-"

"Hey, ghosts don't count and you know that!"

"And apparently neither do humans, either!"

Valerie blinked at her. "What, what do you mean?"

But the ghost girl wasn't listening, too focused on her own seething rage. "As if it even matters! You don't care about anyone other than yourself, that much is clear. So forget it! I'll find Danny on my own. I don't need you."

"Says the ghost that practically begged me to help track down your 'cousin' - if you two are even related."

"Yeah? And apparently that was my mistake. So forget it, Valerie. Forget what you saw tonight, forget about all of this. ...Forget about me."

The hunter was taken aback. "Danielle..."

"I'm serious," the girl sniffed angrily. "Lose my number. Don't contact me. Don't look for me. Go on with your life, hunting down ghosts that have done nothing wrong just to fill some empty black hole inside of you or whatever. I don't care." And with that, she kicked off, zooming toward the ceiling.

"Danielle!" Valerie called after her. "Elle, wait! Come back!"

But she was gone. Invisible or fazed through the ceiling, the hunter couldn't tell.

[lolottes]

Who hurt my son?!!

[tinynerdz360]

Above and Beyond Chapter 6

Author note: I’m Stopping the use of the Zalgo text so {this means} ={̲̗̳͕̪͇̪̪̒̇̃̿̽̒̿͐̑͗͌͝ţ̷̼̝͎̥͓͚̩̦͔̅͋͆̓ḧ̢̧̙͉͕͉͖̺͚̇͂̀̍̀̓̈́̌͌̚͠͝͝i̶̤̲̊̆́̔̈̈́̍͗͂͋͋̚̚͠ş̷̢̛̭̪͖͕̣͕̬̠͌͊͗̾̓̐͗̍̓́̔̌̊̀͐̚ ̷̢̛̱̳̭̘̼͉̤̻͍͐͋̀̊́̋͆̈́̕͝m̥̩̄̀͗̍̽̏͂̿̇̀͠e̶̢̛̥̱̫̻̖̖͖̤̓̆̒̃͆̿̕͜ā̢̯̣̤̲̲͍͇͈̖̔̐͛ņ̛̟̦͎̯̻̺̭̘̖͓͙̀̊̊̑͂͂̂̆̈́͗̉̎͗̕͜͜͜ͅş̶̟̘̬̖̭͈͖͔̻̩͊̓̋͗̔͌̊͋̿̈́̅̿̕̚ͅ}̴̩̼͂̈́̇̒̿̒͌͑͒͌

̒ ̡̭̝͕̬͚̪̲͉͕̰̞́̾̾͌͜͝ ̧

So when you see speech text with in {     }   this means ghost speak is being spoken.

~ About 4.5 billion years ago: Location: Oceans of Mars~

The alien ocean of Mars teemed with life, a vibrant ecosystem. Prehistoric creatures thrived in the warm, nutrient-rich waters.

Prehistoric behemoths, their forms both alien and familiar, glide through the water. Crustaceans with spiraled carapaces and translucent pincers scuttled across the sandy floor. Schools of bioluminescent fish darted around in the ocean environment.

Amidst this ancient menagerie, a tiny sea serpent darted through the water, its body no more than a foot in length. At first glance, it resembled a miniature mosasaur, with a streamlined head and powerful jaws lined with sharp teeth.

The minuscule creature darted between the legs of a colossal arthropod, its movements quick and purposeful. With a mouth full of needle-like teeth, it snapped up microorganisms and smaller prey.  

Its instincts, honed by countless generations of evolution, guided it through the labyrinthine network of underwater caves and crevices that riddled the Martian seabed.

The sea serpent swam deeper into the cavernous depths, its curiosity piqued by the strange energy emanating from within.

As the creature ventured further, the water began to take on an eerie, luminescent quality. Tendrils of glowing ectoplasm, a substance utterly foreign to the Martian ecosystem, snaked through the water, pulsing with an otherworldly rhythm.

Deep within the heart of the cave, hidden from the prying eyes of the surface world, lay the source of the strange phenomenon: a small wild ghost portal, a tear in the fabric of reality itself.

The tiny sea serpent propelled itself through the ectoplasm-infused waters, its eyes scanning the cavern for any sign of prey.

Suddenly, a swarm of alien krill caught its attention, their bioluminescent bodies casting an eerie glow in the dark depths. With a swift motion, the sea serpent darted forward, its jaws snapping shut around the tiny creatures.

Instinctively, the sea serpent began to hunt, its lithe body twisting and turning as it pursued its prey with a newfound vigor. As it consumed the strange, ectoplasm-infused creatures, the sea serpent could feel a change taking place within its very being. Its muscles grew stronger, its scales harder, and its size began to increase at an alarming rate.

With each passing day, the sea serpent grew larger and more powerful, its body adapting to the unique properties of the ectoplasmic life water.

Slowly but surely, the ghost portal shrunk in size, far too small for the sea serpent to fit through and escape its fate.

The sea serpent's primitive mind was consumed by one thought:

*Hungry! *

*Hungry! *

Hungry! *

It wanted to feed and hunt in the vast Martian Ocean.  

But the cavern’s entrance was now impossibly small for the Sea serpent’s massive form. Panic began to set in as the creature thrashed its tail, desperate to escape the confines of its new prison.

As the sea serpent's hunger grew, so too did its desperation. In the depths of its mind, a strange new power began to manifest, born from the fusion of its primal instincts and the otherworldly energy of the ectoplasm.

At first, it was little more than a faint whisper, a subtle vibration. But as the sea serpent focused its will, the whisper grew louder, more insistent.  

The sea serpent had developed the ability to send out telepathic signals, a siren song that lured unsuspecting prey into its domain.

Schools of fish and krill swarms were drawn to the sea serpent's call, their primitive minds overwhelmed by the irresistible pull of its psychic summons. They swam blindly into the cavern, heedless of the danger that awaited them.

The sea serpent's hunger reached a fever pitch as the prey animals flooded into the cave. It lunged forward, its massive jaws snapping shut around entire schools of fish, its razor-sharp teeth easily tearing through flesh and bone.

Within weeks, the sea serpent had grown to over 70 feet in length, its serpentine form coiled in the cavern's depths like a slumbering leviathan.

And still, it waited, its telepathic signals pulsing through the water like a beacon, luring more and more prey into its domain.

As the eons passed, Mars's once-vibrant oceans began to wither and die. The sea serpent, trapped within its underwater cavern, still sent out its siren call, but the prey dwindled, dwindled, and dwindled down to nothing.

The creature's hunger grew to an all-consuming agony, a gnawing emptiness. It thrashed and writhed in the cave's depths, its telepathic signals growing weaker and more desperate each day.

Yet even as the rest of the Martian ecosystem collapsed around it, the sea serpent clung to life, sustained by the strange, ectoplasmic properties of the water in which it swam. The glowing liquid seemed to pulse with its own energy, keeping the creature's body from wasting away entirely.

As the waters grew colder and colder, the sea serpent's movements became sluggish. It lay in the darkness, its hollow eyes staring into the void, waiting for the telltale ripples that signaled the arrival of prey.

The sea serpent's telepathic call grew weaker, its mind clouded by the constant gnawing of hunger. It drifted in and out of consciousness.

The ectoplasmic water began to solidify, its pace far slower than that of normal water. The creature barely noticed as the water froze around it.

Inch by inch, the ecto-water solidified, its surface hardening into a smooth, glassy sheet. The sea serpent's movements slowed to a crawl, its body becoming one with the frozen tomb that surrounded it.

~Present Day: Year 2035 Mars: Location: Ares III Hab~

Danny's gaze lingered on the airlock with an intensity that might have bored holes through the reinforced metal. Mars beckoned him, a siren call to his senses, an almost magnetic pull towards something hidden beneath its dusty red surface.

"Vogal," Danny ventured, his voice quieter than usual, "{I want to go outside. With the team.}"

Rick Martinez, leaning against the bulkhead with an easy grace, spoke up, “What did he ask?”

Vogal turned to him and repeated Danny’s question.

Rick chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Didn't you try to sneak out of the Hab last night, Dantom?"

Danny's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, his embarrassment evident. Dr. Beck fixed him with a stern look, his brows furrowed in concern. "Going out there alone is off-limits, Dantom; we need to stick together. It's for your safety as much as ours."

Lewis stepped forward, her commanding presence demanding an explanation. "Why did you attempt to leave, Dantom?"

He hesitated, torn between the desire to blend in and the truth of his alien circumstance. But they already viewed him as different; this wasn't the time for pretense. "{I sense something out there,}" Danny began, his voice barely above a whisper. "{I think it might be an ecto deposit, a source of energy that my kind needs to survive. It's a part of our diet, along with physical food and absorption of emotions. I need to eat or absorb this energy as well; too long without it causes problems and, in extreme cases, death."}

"An ecto what now?" Rick interjected.

Danny's fingers twitched at his sides. 

“{The ecto deposit,}" he started, firmly grounding his gaze on the spot just over their heads. "{It's like... an energy source my kind thrives on. We call it life water or ectoplasm.}"

"Wait, back up," Beth interjected after hearing the translation. "You eat emotions?"

Danny’s eyes flickered to meet hers before darting away. "{We absorb them, more like. Think of us as emotional vampires, I guess.}"

Lewis folded her arms, her posture radiating both authority and concern. "Does this hurt the people you—well, feed on?"

"{No, it doesn't,}" Danny said quickly, eager to dispel any rising fears. "{It's just excess emotions they're giving off. Right now, since I'm healing, physical touch helps me absorb it better.}"

Mark's eyebrows shot up in realization, a half-grin pulling at his lips. "Is that why you've been all... touchy-feely?"

Heat crept onto Danny's cheeks, manifesting in a bashful nod. "{ Normally, it's harmless. It only becomes a problem if someone starts craving a specific emotion, chasing after it, and going to any length for it.}”

“Almost sounds like an addiction to me.” Mumbled Vogal after translating.

Dr. Beck's gaze lingered on Danny with a deep intensity. "You mentioned emotions as part of your diet," he began, his tone clinical. "What type are you drawn to?"

"{Any emotion really,}" Danny replied, his voice carrying a note of fatigue that wasn't just from his physical wounds. "{But positive ones... those are best.}” He looked away, staring at the bulkhead. "{Negative stuff can be too much, though. It hurts to take in sometimes.}"

The crew exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of bewilderment and tentative acceptance.

"And these Ecto deposits?" Lewis prodded. “You didn’t really explain those.”

Danny's eyes snapped back to hers, an ethereal glow flickering within. "{Ecto is energy from the Infinity Realm, my... home dimension, I guess. It leaks into other worlds, but it's weird how it works.}" He struggled to articulate the complexities of it. {"When something dies, especially in masse, ecto can manifest. But it's fickle; there's no guarantee it'll appear.}"

"{Life water}," he continued, "{that's another name for it. It it shouldn't exist on Mars anymore; life's been gone too long. But I feel it out there.}" A hint of wonder laced his voice.

"Wait, so this ecto stuff..." Rick interjected, his brow furrowed in concern. "It shows up after something dies, right? What's stopping you from trying to create it yourself—with us?" The question hung heavy in the recycled air of the habitat.

The horror that contorted Danny's face was visceral. He recoiled as if struck. "No!” Danny was so repulsed he slipped into English. This earned him a few intense looks from the astronauts. Danny mentally patted himself on the back for saying he could learn languages faster. And ‘no’ is an easy meaning or word to figure out in most languages.

“{That's not how it—}" He cut himself off, frustration clear in his scowl. "{Murder doesn't make the same kind of ecto. It's tainted, wrong.}" His words stumbled over each other, tripping in his haste to explain. "{I'm not good at explaining this... There are different kinds.}"

It was very true that there were different kinds of ecto, and most ghosts would never try to kill someone to get it or try to make it appear, but also for Danny, he could never kill someone; that would go against his protection obsession, it would hurt more than any wound if he went against it.

Rick held up his hands placatingly, "Hey, I didn't mean to accuse; I just had to ask."

Danny nodded stiffly, the tension slowly ebbing from his shoulders as the crew's initial alarm subsided.

Rick offered a slight smile. "But it's good to know you don't want to kill us. That's always a plus in my book."

Commander Lewis, who had been quietly observing the exchange, spoke up. "Dantom, would this ecto form on Earth as well?"

He hesitated, feeling the weight of their gazes upon him. Honesty won out, though reluctance laced his answer. "{Yes, it would,}" Danny admitted. "{Earth has a lot of life... and death. It's possible for ecto to form there but only in specific places. It's hard to explain the intricacies.}”

"Could you find it if you were there?" Lewis pressed on, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

"Uh-huh," Danny said with a nod. "{My kind—we can sense it. It's like a beacon to us.}" The crew seemed to take comfort in this revelation; it was crucial information. Danny could survive on Earth.

"About this deposit on Mars," Lewis said, shifting her focus. "Do you have any idea where it is?"

Danny shrugged, his brow furrowing in concentration. "{I'm not sure exactly where it is. I can sense that it's far, but if I could go outside and look around, I'm confident I could find it.}"

His eyes lit up with excitement, and he sat up straighter. "{I could be quick, and I don't need a suit to survive out there. I'd be there and back in no time!}"

Dr. Beck immediately shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea, Dantom. Traveling alone in your condition could be dangerous. I don't want you pulling your stitches or aggravating your injuries."

Danny's shoulders slumped, disappointment evident on his face.

Lewis regarded Danny thoughtfully before speaking.

"Let's compromise. We’ll need to get approval from NASA before we can travel to far from the Hab, also you still won’t be going alone. But in the meantime, you can accompany us and help collect soil samples. How does that sound?"

Danny perked up slightly, nodding in agreement. "{Okay, that works for me."}

*I can always sneak out later tonight…...this time, I won’t be caught. * Danny thought to himself.

After much discussion and deliberation, Dr. Beck finally relented, allowing Danny to venture outside without a spacesuit. He fixed the young half-ghost with a stern look, his voice filled with concern. "Dantom, I need you to be extremely careful out there. Be mindful of your wounds, and if you feel any pain or need to rest, let us know immediately. Understand?"

Danny nodded. He was excited to finally stretch his legs and see the surface of Mars. Last time, he was busy bleeding out.

Beck turned to address the rest of the crew. "I want everyone to keep a close eye on Dantom while we're out there. Vogal, I'm assigning you to stick with him; make sure he doesn't run off or push himself too hard."

Vogal gave a curt nod, his expression serious. Danny felt a twinge of annoyance at being treated like a child.

Beck pulled Danny aside; his brow furrowed in thought. "Dantom, I have a question. Can your body convert the emotions and physical food you consume into the energy you need? The same energy that ecto would provide?"

Danny considered the question for a moment before responding. "{Yes, it can, but only for a limited time. Eventually, I'll need to find a source of ecto to sustain myself fully.}"

Beck nodded. "So, it's almost like a vitamin deficiency. Your body can compensate for a while, but eventually, you'll need the real thing."

"{Exactly,}" Danny confirmed.

"We'll do our best to locate an ecto deposit for you while we're here," Beck assured him. "But if we can't find one on Mars, we'll make sure to get you what you need once we're back on Earth."

The Martian dust swirled around Danny as he stepped out onto the barren landscape, the red soil crunching softly under his feet.

Vogal hovered nearby, his stance protective yet unobtrusive.

"Tell us about the infinity realm," Mark Watney's voice crackled through the shared comms, unable to contain his fascination. "Are portals something you come by often?"

"{Portals are pretty common,}" Danny explained, picking up a rock and examining its texture before placing it into the collection bag. "{There are wild ones—they're unpredictable and dangerous. Stable ones are safer but harder to find.}"

"Can anyone create these portals?" Mark pressed.

"{Only a few,}" Danny replied, his gaze drifting over the horizon. "{It takes a lot of power and knowledge to make them at will. Most of my kind prefer solitude, sticking to themselves to avoid complications.}"

****

Danny was helping Mark and Vogal collect some rock samples when it hit him. A strange tingling pain radiated outward from his core, making him gasp and double over.

No! He couldn't transform back now, not here! He clutched his midsection, willing his human half to stay suppressed. Plus, if he transformed here outside on Mars, without a suit on, he wasn’t sure if his human half would be able to survive!

After an agonizing minute, the tingling subsided. Danny remained hunched on the ground, panting. His secret was still safe, but the effort had drained him.

Strong hands grasped him under the arms, lifting him up. Danny blinked blearily at Vogal's concerned face. The astronaut said something Danny didn't catch over the ringing in his ears.

Vogal carried Danny back inside the hab, laying him down on the exam table.

Danny, feeling too drained and in pain, fell into blissful unconsciousness.

Chapter 7

[artemismoorea03]

DPxDC or Marvel: Get A Look At This Monster

The team was called to investigate a Government funded group called the G.I.W. and since the team often works hand in hand with the Government (whether they want to or not) the G.I.W. have no problem giving them a tour! After all, if the Justice League/Avengers see how important their work is their funding will get tripled and they will be able to fully destroy the Ghost Realm once and for all.

The tour starts out normal at first.

The facility, the labs, the science all seems sound if those who doubt the existence of 'Ghosts' don't question it too hard. They're beings from another dimension, nothing more. Plus from what they've been told they're just dangerous monsters.

But that one looks weirdly like a bear.

And that one looks like a rabbit?

The G.I.W. talk very excitedly about their 'main subject' whom they call "Phantom" and they're actually taken to a very special room with chairs to sit and be introduced to this very dangerous ghost. They're admittedly a little impressed until they drag in a white haired pasty faced teenager with green eyes and dump him onto the ground on the other side of the tank.

Muzzled.

Collared.

Shackled.

Covered in a mixture of green and red which looks far too much like blood for any of their comfort. None of them feel like they can breathe as the teen is forced onto his knees and the G.I.W. talk about how this is Phantom. A monster who cannot feel pain. Who knows nothing but hatred and destruction! Potentially the biggest threat the world has ever known.

The team is hesitant to believe this.

Any of this.

Especially when the teen looks up and makes eye contact with one of the members and seems to recognize them. The teen moved, tears dripping down his face as he reached for the glass before the collar lights up with electricity and the teen drops to his knees.

Are they looking at a monster?

Or a teenager in trouble?

[overtherose]

This is glorious!

“We’ve secured the suspected meta.”

“Copy that. Red Hood, do you have eyes on the last of them?”

“Not yet, but I’m pretty sure she’s in this apartment.”

Several months ago a group of unpredictable rogues had popped up in Gotham. Nothing unusual for the city, other than they appeared to be a group of teenagers who were both criminals and heroes. Stolen goods of various types ranging from common camping supplies, food, and clothing, to an odd assortment of medical supplies and technology. Assaulted police, other heroes and vigilantes given the slip. And yet there were also many criminals dealt with that hero teams couldn’t account for who was responsible. The main lead they had gotten was the suspected meta human. A girl with white hair that could fly, phase through walls, and various other super human feats. She had been the first lead they could latch onto, and from there they had built profiles on the other three. The oldest girl appeared to be in her late teens, another girl just a few years younger, a boy the same age as the second girl, and then the metahuman, younger than all of them. They had been more of a curiosity than a serious threat. Until they had stolen something from the wrong people and painted a target on their heads. Now they were in a cross between a rescue and capture mission as the team only known as The Phantoms were being raided by pissed off crooks.

The three youngest had already been caught by the rest of the team sent by Batman, it was only the eldest girl that remained. And unless Tim could pull off a miracle Jason only had ten minutes to find her before the planted bomb destroyed the building they’d been hiding in.

With Barbara’s help he and a few of the others had searched the entire apartment building, checking each room for the remaining Phantom and placing eyes where they’d been to make sure she didn’t give them the slip and run to somewhere they’d already been. Jason had just slammed through the front door of one more apartment when he’d answered Barbara’s question, a scattering of food wrappers in a trash pile, a small cook top, sleeping areas, and other items for basic needs betraying recent habitation. It was a good hint that this was where the Phantoms had stationed, especially with the scrabbled together computer workstation setup off to one side.

There were only three other doors in the apartment, and Jason moved to the first one quickly. A closet near the front door. Empty. A bathroom across from the front room. Also empty. Which meant the last room, the bedroom, had to be where she was, if she was there.

Jason flung the door open and promptly caught the crowbar that was swung at his face, accompanied by a near frantic screech from the girl he’d been looking for

“Got her,” Jason announced to the comms, deftly yanking the crowbar out of the girl’s hands and tossing it to the side. “Begin evacuation, I’ll be out in - ….. Shit.”

As Jason spoke to Barbara and the rest of the team he decidedly ignored the girl’s demands for him to get out, having to block a fist thrown his way. He’d noticed she was obviously distressed, tears marking her dirty cheeks and a fierce glare directed his way. It wasn’t unexpected considering she was the last of her team they didn’t have in custody; she must have felt any myriad of emotions ranging from despair at failing to fear that they would hurt her. Yet Jason quickly noticed something that made him cuss mid report, and realize the girl's actions weren’t out of defiance, but protectiveness.

“There’s five of them,” Jason reported, finger pressing to his comm and eyes locked onto the new figure that hadn’t been part of any of their intel. And for a good reason. The lad was unconscious on a cot, one of the stolen items in the team’s list, and he didn’t look good. If it weren’t for the shallow, shuddering breaths from him Jason would have thought he were already dead, his skin ghastly pale other than fever flushed cheeks. “There’s another boy, heavily injured. I’m bringing them both out, have someone standing by.”

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

Of course the girl heard his report, and renewed her efforts to fight Jason, blocking him from reaching the fifth member. They didn’t have time to converse gently though, and so Jason grabbed her arm and yanked her forward. “Listen! I’m not going to hurt you, I’m trying to rescue you. There’s a bomb! We have to get out of the building, and get him to a hospital.”

The girl was smart. Or at least not dumb enough to ignore Jason’s words completely, for she froze the moment he mentioned the bomb. “...What?” she asked, wide eyes locking onto him, daring him to trick her.

“Look, you guys trying to steal Lazarus water pissed off the wrong people. They planted a bomb, and my team and I are here to rescue you. We can talk about your crime runs later, alright?” Jason explained a little more, really not wanting to have to knock the girl out too just to get the two to a safe area if he could help it.

The way the girl’s eyes opened, a horrified gasp escaping her, told Jason she wasn’t a bad person. Or at least reinforced what their actions aside from theft had suggested. That was the reaction of someone who realized they’d made a mistake, and felt the weight bearing down from the mess that had been caused because of it. She stopped trying to fight Jason now, pulling away and rushing to the 5th member’s side, grabbing his limp arm and hooking it around her own shoulders to try and lift him up.

“Is he safe to move?” Jason asked, stepping forward to help. Even though the lad looked fairly small, he was still too heavy for the girl judging by how she was struggling to even get him upright. “His spine isn’t hurt? No broken bones?” he asked to clarify when the girl looked at him with a question half voiced.

“No. Nothing broken, just the-” she confirmed, cutting off when Jason reached forward and effortlessly scooped the frail teen up.

“Hold onto my back. We’re going that way,” Jason directed, ignoring the way she tensed, holding herself back from demanding he not touch her friend, and nodding towards the window.

“WhAT?” the girl sputtered, hands jerking as she internally wrestled with being obedient to him or her own sense of self preservation.

“We’re out of time. Just grab on,” Jason half snapped, roughly kicking the window to shatter the glass, twisting his frame to shield the lad in his arms as well, just in case. “One minute,” he added, repeating what Barbara announced in his comms to reinforce his directions.

It was enough. Pursing her lips and giving a soft whimper the girl rushed forward to throw her arms around his shoulders from behind, clinging to him with a death grip. Jason wished he had a better way to carry both of them, but he hadn’t been expecting there to be two of them in the first place. So he could only hope the girl’s grip was strong enough to hang on as he shot a zip line towards where the others were gathered. After getting the other end secured to the building they were in, Jason latched the clip on the rope and swung over the fire escape, curling his legs up to make sure the lad he was carrying had plenty of support. He could hear a muffled, drawn out squeak from the girl on his back, but didn’t comment.

“Wh- Ja- DANNY! LET HIM GO YOU-” the mid teenage girl caught sight of them first, snarling and trashing against her restraints when she saw who Jason had. Cass refused to let her go though, pulling her back to kneeling and considering pushing her down further if necessary. She didn’t get to finish her protests though.

“HEADS DOWN!” Dick shouted after Barbara announced a second to detonation, and those who had capes were throwing them over their targets and each other, hunching over to bodily protect them from the cascades of blasts ripping through the apartment building the Phantoms had been stationed in. They were far enough away that they shouldn’t get hurt from the collapsing rubble, but there was still the possibility of smaller debris getting thrown at them. So they remained huddled on the ground a safe distance away until the rubble settled, and only when it stopped shifting did they stand again.

“Oracle, status on the inbound units?” Dick was the first to speak, the others giving sighs of relief and partially relaxing.

The two middle teenage children had quieted significantly after the explosion, the boy looking at the rubble in shock as he realized they would have been caught in it if it weren't for the group of vigilantes that had captured them. And the girl held a similar period of stunned silence before she started kicking at Cass again. “Get off me! Get your filthy hands off Danny!”

“Sam, it’s okay.” The eldest girl spoke with a shaking voice, slipping off Jason’s back and leaning her head against him in a moment of despair. Cass’s hand froze where it had been about to knock out chop her feisty captive, blinking and looking up instead. So the middle teen’s name was Sam? And the unconscious lad was Danny?

“The meta is waking up. Should I dose her again?” That was Damian, keeping an eye on the youngest Phantom. She was starting to stir, but the eldest Phantom spoke up before the others could.

“Don’t. Please. They’ve been through enough. Just please bring her over here, I’ll manage her,” the eldest girl directed. Her voice was still shaking, but it had steadied somewhat after Jason had turned slightly while remaining crouched to allow her to sit next to their 5th member, her hand resting on his cheek as she was gathering the breaking pieces of her determination.

Stephanie and Cass only exchanged looks with each other, and also Dick and Tim, before Jason spoke up. “Just bring her over. She might be more docile when she’s near this one.”

They didn’t seem completely convinced, but Stephanie at least complied, moving to crouch on one knee with the youngest girl while Damian hovered nearby with another dose of sedatives.

“You’re doing the right thing kid. When the cops get here with the paramedics they’ll get Danny taken care of. You don’t have to worry,” Jason encouraged the eldest girl, grateful that she was getting her team to behave.

“They can’t take him,” she rejected, catching the rest off guard.

“What? Look if it’s about money don’t worry, it’ll be taken care of,” Jason insisted, hoping it wasn’t because of a different possibility he was quickly starting to consider. He’d thought it was just his imagination, but Danny was unusually cold to the touch. Almost like ice. There was another common reason he knew people avoided hospitals despite being this injured.

The eldest girl shook her head again. “It’s not that it’s….” she paused, seeming both reluctant to tell them but also not sure how to tell them what was going on. She wasn’t even sure what was wrong. But when the youngest teen groaned and started to shift the eldest looked at her and found her answer. “Danny is like Danielle. Doctors can’t help them. They’re too different.”

That’s what Jason thought, but it didn’t mean he wanted to hear it, and it earned an understanding but frustrated groan from him and some of the others. “Shit. Alright,“ Dick took charge of the situation, hissing slightly and reaching to his own comms. “Oracle, where’s the nearest safe house? The 5th member is another potential meta, unconscious, and heavy bandaging over the whole torso. Can you contact home and have Penny-one or The Doctor on standby?”

As Dick took care of directing the team, Jason took care of keeping their tentative ally willing to listen to them. “We might have some contacts that can help. We have friends that also need more attention that the regular doctor can give them. Do you kids have names we can use?”

It was more of a lead than they’d had since they’d gotten stranded there, so the eldest teen seemed hesitant but hopeful to grab onto it. After a moment of thinking, her other hand reaching out to Danielle as she started to blink her eyes open, she responded. “My name is Jazz. This is my little brother Danny, my little sister Dani with an I, and our friends Sam and Tucker.”

“... Your parents gave your little siblings the same name?” Jason couldn’t help asking after hearing the relationships. That also explained a lot about why Jazz had been so frantically protective of Danny, aside from her being the oldest of the group.

“It’s… a long story,” Jazz admitted, grimacing a little. “Danielle… was unexpected.”

Looked like Jazz didn’t quite trust them enough. That was fine, they didn’t need a whole backstory right off. Oracle could probably figure it out easily now that she had names and relations. “Fair enough,” Jason dismissed with a grunt, ending his conversation as Dick approached them.

“Hey. There’s a whole mess of stuff going on, I know, but right now we’re going to focus on making sure everyone is taken care of, and then we can figure out the rest of the mess later, okay?” Dick started, leaning low with his hands on his knees and speaking gently. “The police and paramedics can take care of the criminals that were hunting you, but since he’s a special case we’re going to move to a different location where we’ll give everyone a check up. Sound good?”

Jazz didn’t jump at the offer, but they could see she saw promise in it, and hesitantly nodded. “My friends and I stay together at all times. Got it?” she demanded.

“Sure,” Dick agreed, not seeing any issue with that. “But we’ll keep the restraints on if necessary, alright? You all still have charges of assault after all.”

It was easy to see Jazz’s expression fall significantly at the reminder, as though her soul had been slightly crushed. “Yeah… okay,” she agreed, swallowing some nausea that had churned her stomach at being reminded they were criminals. Then, before Danielle could fuss too much, Jazz turned to rest a hand on the small girl’s arm. “Dani, these guys have agreed to help us. So behave and don’t pick any fights unless I say otherwise, alright?”

The fist that Danielle had prepared to punch her holder didn’t move, and after a moment Danielle groaned in reluctant relent. “Guhhhh can I at least punch the guy who drugged me? I feel awful.”

The comment earned a weak chuckle from Jazz, and she patted Danielle’s arm. “I’ll think about it. Just rest for now. We’re moving to a safe place.” She hoped she wasn’t lying to Danielle, and that these people would actually, finally give them the help they needed.

_______________________

I guess I go here now =v=;;;

Partially inspired by this post. But not including everything because there's a lot of stuff I don't understand. |D This just got stuck in my head so hard I couldn't work on anything else.

[zillychu]

hmmm "stuck in the ghost zone" no one knows au thoughts :)

[thevoidstaredback]

Red Hood was furious. Beyond that, actually, and he could tell that Nightwing shared his sentiment. Danny was technically the new worker in the alley and had basically been adopted by all the working girls and boys, which is why he had yet to meet him. Apparently, he would scare him off?

Anyway, Red Hood would be out for blood as soon as he got Danny dropped off at The Club. The poor kid was still in shock, cowering in on himself, letting the jacket hide him as much as it could. He could tell the kid was anxious to have Nightwing following behind him, but he was glad he was bearing with it. He needed the insurance that someone wouldn’t try to take Danny while he didn’t have eyes on him.

When they did get to The Club, he and Nightwing watched as Danny walked inside with his jacket still wrapped around him. The kid was bombarded by several of the people still there, though they all backed off when he flinched, gently guiding him to a chair. Lucy was the one to come out and greet them.

“Thanks for bringing him back,” they said, their voice soft.

“It was no problem, Lu,” Red Hood shook his head slightly, his posture relaxed.

Lucy shook their head in denial. “No, I mean it. We were all so worried when he didn’t come back! The others had lost sight of him and came in panicking.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Nightwing stepped up next to Red Hood, “what happened?”

Lucy worried at their bottom lip, glancing at Red Hood, who nodded, before answering. “We always make sure to keep within sight of each other, just in case someone steps outta line. It’s for our safety. That, and keeping in lit areas. I wasn’t out tonight, but there were seven others on the street with him. There must’ve been a few seconds when they didn’t have eyes on Danny and he was nabbed because none of the others said that they saw anyone else out around the time he disappeared.” They met both vigilanties' eyes behind their masks. “Who was it, Hood?”

Nightwing was hesitant to tell, obviously having an idea of what would happen to the BJ. Red Hood had no such reservations. He knew the names and faces of everyone in Crime Alley, including the addresses of those who have them. They all know his rules and the punishments for not following them. “Go back for the night, Nightwing.”

“Hood-”

“No. Plausible deniability and all that.” he waved off, following Lucy as they led him into The Club. “Tell Batman I sent ya early because Alley business came up.”

“It’s no place for a Bat,” Nightwing sulked, “I know. Good night, you two!”

“Goodnight, Nightwing!” Lucy waved as the man grappled away. They turned back to Red Hood before opening the door. “Who was it?”

“Mr. Jameson in apartment 25 of the Katt Building near the middle of the Alley.”

They hummed and opened the door. “I’ll pass it on to everyone.”

The group of fifteen were comforting Danny, helping him clean up and offering an ear to listen to. Danny, throughout it all, was staring mostly blankly at the coffee table in the middle of the commons area. He only really reacted when someone gave him a dog plush. Though, that was only small, hesitant movements to take the plush and pull it close to his chest, Red Hood’s jacket still hiding him as though he were a child hiding from a lightning storm. And that’s what he was, a child hiding from the outside world because it hurt him.

Red Hood had to admit, though, that the guy’s cute. He was really hoping to meet him under better circumstances. Regardless, he took off his helmet, the domino underneath keeping his identity mostly safe from getting out, though he trusted everyone here to keep the secret if they ever found out. He knelt on the floor in front of Danny, keeping his movements slow and telegraphed as he made sure to stay in Danny’s line of sight. “Hey there, hun.”

Danny didn’t respond. He didn’t even move. His breathing had slowed back down to a normal pattern, though, and it seemed to be slowing even more.

Red Hood made sure not to touch him or get too close. “Hey, can you hear me?” he asked, “Blink if you can.”

For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, very slowly, Danny blinked. Red Hood smiled at him.

“Good. I’m not gonna ask ya what happened, okay? None of us are. We’re gonna take care of the guy, though. He won’t ever bother you again, ‘kay?”

Again, his blink was slow, but tears slowly fell from his eyes as he did so. Relief seemed to wash over his expression as he relaxed into the couch, the jacket and plush being held slightly looser.

“Do you want to stay here, or do you want to go somewhere else?”

The response was quiet, barely a whisper that Red Hood almost missed, “Somewhere else.”

Not too surprising. “Where do ya wanna go?”

“Home.”

“Where’s home?”

Danny didn’t answer as he pulled the jacket around the plush in his arms. Not a good sign, but it was an unfortunately common one for Crime Alley residence.

Red Hood thought for a second, mostly for show, before saying, “I’ve got a safe house you could stay in to recover. No one but me will know where you are if you don’t want them to. You’ll be able to stay as long as you want and you can leave at any time. Sound good?”

“Can Lu or May or Jakey know where it is?”

Not ideal, but anything to make him feel safer. “Of course they can know.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want me to tell them?”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“We’ll touch base then,” He slowly stood back up. “Let me or one of the others know when you’re ready to go and I’ll take ya to the safe house. No rush. We’ll go at your pace.”

Stepping away for a second, he put his helmet back on and turned on his comms. He listened to the conversation he’d tuned into, knowing that Oracle would make him known if the others didn’t stop talking in a moment.

Sure enough, after about thirty seconds, she muted them all and said, “Red Hood, nice of you to join us.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he muttered, ‘Nothing particularly nice about this situation.”

“Oh?” Oracle asked, “What’s going on?”

“Ask Nightwing for details.” he said, “I’m not gonna answer calls for the next few days. Everyone stays out of Crime Alley until I say.” “So normal rules then?” He hummed in response. “Alright. Goodnight, Red Hood.”

Red Hood turned his com off completely, turning to face the kid on the couch and lean against the wall. Danny’s was gonna be okay. He was going to make sure that he’ll be okay.

Part 2 Part 4

[deadsetobsessions]

What Do You Have There?

A knife!

Danny plunked the butter knife in its pedestal of importance. The nice thing about having a billionaire vigilante for a... foster is the amount of money Danny was allowed to drop on his hobbies. For example, his extensive collection of souvenirs.

They're not just any old regular souvenirs. No, no, no. That would be so boring! No, these souvenirs, he obtained from the various muggings, knife fights, and various other situations he's been in ever since he was dropped ungraciously into Gotham.

The butter knife? Damian. Precocious, stabby Damian who he had startled into the stab instinct. A point of pride, really. Danny knew Damian was good at fighting! It was practically, in ghost terms, a super enthusiastic hello! Yes, the butter knife would be kept in the well lit part of the wall. Alfred had told him to stay home today to recuperate. He didn't need it, since the wound would heal in an hour or two, but he'd take staying at home any day.

A couple of hours later, well into the afternoon and right before what Danny knew to be their patrol hours, Danny had a visitor.

"Danny."

"Oh, hey, Damian! What's up?" Danny turned around to see Damian hovering awkwardly near the door.

"I am here to... check upon your wound. It is imperative that it gets proper treatment."

Ancients, Damian was exactly like those alley kids. He just ate a thesaurus instead of the drawling accent the alley kids picked up. Which meant Damian endeared himself to Danny pretty quickly. Like a little ghostling.

"Oh, I'm good. See? No blood is leaking out of the wound." Danny held up spotless bandages.

Danny watched Damian step into his haunt- his room- with a pleased hum. Damian inspected the bandages and stepped back with a sharp nod of approval. His eyes flicked to the wall that Danny was rearranging (again) and did a double take at the butter knife in the middle.

"Is that the butter knife I stabbed you with?"

"Why, yes, it is!" Danny beamed.

"Why on earth would you display that?"

"Because you stabbed me with it?"

"That makes absolutely no sense, you simpleton! When someone stabs you, stab them back!"

"That would be mean!"

Damian spluttered. Danny tugged the kid closer to the wall, cheering inwardly as Damian didn't shove him away. It might be because he was exaggeratedly wincing as he moved his "injured arm" but Danny has learned to take a win where he could find them, especially with ghosts. Not that Damian was a ghost, but he sure acted like one.

"Do you want to see my collection?"

"Your collection?"

"Yeah!" Without giving him time to answer, Danny barreled ahead. "So this is the knife you stabbed me with. Which, by the way, was an awesome show of strength and accuracy."

Damian grimaced. Danny continued blithely, secretly memorizing Damian's reactions to laugh at later.

"And this is the knife those guys stabbed me with that one time Cass found me. And this one is a bullet someone shot at me down by the docks. I think I interrupted some kind of meeting?"

Damian's jaw had a slight tick to it that would have been a baffled frown on anyone else.

"And when was this?"

"Oh, like a week ago."

"What? When did you go to the docks?!"

"At night. I couldn't sleep."

"And you went to the docks?! How did you even get there?!"

"Walked," Danny lied, like a lying liar. He floated, obviously, but none of them knew that. "Anyways, this is a law book! Someone threw it at my head!"

"Hey, guys! What're you doing?"

Danny and Damian turned around.

"Richard? Brown? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Bruce wanted me to come back for the weekend," Dick said. Danny knew it was code for "something's going down and we need back up." Man, he still couldn't believe they didn't know he knew they were crime fighting vigilantes.

"Same!" Stephanie said. Danny was glad to see that her wounds from "cartwheeling in the manor" were healed.

"I see. Danny was showing me his collection of... objects people have used as weapons against him."

"What?!"

"Yeah!" Danny beamed, completely innocent. "Come on! I'll show you!"

With that, Danny continued to ramble. He just knew that the way Dick's and Stephanie's smiles strained would give him a good laugh for weeks to come. "And this is the glass bottle a drunk tried to shank me with in Crime Alley, and this is a knife the Red Hood himself threw at me."

Dick interrupted, face stiff. "Hood threw a knife at you?!"

"Yeah, but that was because my kids broke into his safe house and I was trying to get them to stop looting the place. And he didn't know I was a kid too, so he aimed a gun at my head. He shot at me too, but I couldn't go back to get the bullet, or else it would have joined my collection." Danny grabbed a box and shook it, metal rattling inside.

Dick smiled sweetly, Stephanie and Damian inching away from it.

"Oh, wow, I see!"

----

In his apartment, Jason shuddered. He grabbed his guns.

"Something's wrong. I just know it," he muttered to himself.

----

Danny smiled innocently as he described the horrific, near death events he got his souvenirs from.

"This is my bullet box! Man, Gotham has a lot of gun fights. I got shot so many times!" Danny complained, shaking the box like a rattling toy.

"Did you know Danny snuck out to go to the bay?" Damian snitched immediately, like a snitch.

"The Bay?! Danny! You know that's where people dump bodies, right?!" Stephanie poked him in the arm.

"Yeah, but like... I wouldn't die. And besides! I missed my friends!"

"You mean the minions you made in Crime Alley?" Steph asked. Danny pouted, eyeing the way Dick's gaze roved over his souvenirs and paling the more he realized how often Danny "got hurt."

Damian bumped a shoulder against Dick's arm. Danny returned to the conversation.

"If anything, I'm their minion." He said, remembering the times the Alley kids sent him on food runs.

"Fear Danny, the overlord of street rats."

Danny snorted. And- "Oh! Yeah, there was like a weird owl looking guy? And then they stabbed me with a finger and I kept it because woah, cool talon looking thing, right? And then they threw a bunch of those tiny knives at me? And then they just kind of vanished? Gotham is so weird."

And now, with all of them pale and stressed out of their minds, Danny swung a devastating blow called guilt trip.

"And that's the batarangs!" Three heads swung over to the line of batarangs. "Those vigilantes kept throwing them at me! One of them even hit me in the arm. Those things are sharp, man."

"Uh. Which ones?" Stephanie asked.

"Hm?" Danny hummed obliviously.

"Do you know which vigilantes?"

"Oh, it was like... the purple one. And the sword one? And like the one with the yellow insignia in the middle. And... all of them, I think? Except for signal. That guy's cool."

Stephanie and Damian had matching veiled looks of guilt. Dick shot them a sharp look. Danny decided to deal the last bit of damage to Dick.

"I'm glad you guys are way less stabby than the general Gotham public though, butter knife incident aside. At least I don't have to worry about you guys getting into danger, right? If you guys got hurt like my family did... I don't know..."

Danny smiled-squinted at them, channeling Cujo at his cutest and saddest: when he doesn't get to eat off of Danny's plate. So, pretty sad and pathetic.

"Uh, yeah." Dick said, guilt splayed all over his face. "Alfred said dinner was almost ready."

"Yes," Damian cleared his throat, looking away. "We shall partake in Pennyworth's hard work."

"Ahaha!" Stephanie laughed, nervously. "Welp, let's go bother Tim!"

Falling into step behind them, Danny grinned.

[artemismoorea03]

Mr. Lancer glances into the back of his car with concern. The rear seats had been laid down in order to tend to Danny who’s health hadn’t gotten any better since they had left Amity Park. Sam, Tucker and Jasmine had taken care of his wounds in a way that looked professional, talking quietly to themselves as they clearly tried to come up with a plan.

They kept mentioning how they weren’t sure they could trust Lancer, and he hardly blamed them.

Danny was his favorite student (though he had never told him such - maybe he should have before now) but he had never noticed the connection between Danny and Phantom. How could he be so blind? How could he have not noticed the wounds, the scars, the exhaustion, the pain?

Even if it had been abuse from his parents he should have reported it.

He should paid more attention.

He should have done more.

Mr. Lancer looked forward again, tightening the grip on the wheel as he tried to keep his calm. Tucker had said they had ‘wiped the servers’ which Mr. Lancer hoped meant that any research the Fenton’s had on Phantom went up in flames. Sam said she ‘contacted Valerie and told her everything’ which implied that Valerie Gray was now involved in the situation as well. Jasmine all the while had asked the occasional question but had otherwise given nothing but instructions to the others on what to do.

“How much longer, Mr. Lancer?” Jasmine asked as Mr. Lancer looked back at them again then at the GPS.

They had been on the road for half a day by this point, stopping now and then for gas and snacks but they couldn’t stay anywhere long due to the condition Danny was in and the fact that they were breaking so many laws just by being on the road the way they were.

“Half an hour.” Mr. Lancer said, “At least according to this.”

“Are you sure they’ll help us?” Tucker asked, “W-why haven’t they helped before now?”

“I... I don’t know. But I know that no matter what I am not willing to let anybody else get hurt. If push comes to shove I’ll distract them and you guys get Danny out of there, okay? I’ll buy you time.” Mr. Lancer said, “but... I’m going to hope that they can help. After all, this was the first time any of us could reach them and they seemed interested in helping us so... let’s give them a chance... for Danny.”

The three kids looked at Danny sadly, as Danny whimpered.

Still unconscious. Still in pain. Still suffering.

“Why are you helping us?” Sam asked, a question that had been lingering for hours.

“Honestly...? I have been trying to get the Justice League involved for some time now and have also considered leaving in order to get them involved but... I felt as though I had to stay for Danny. Every time I thought about leaving my mind would turn to him and how I needed to make sure he didn’t get hurt. I’m glad that I listened to that instinct. Though, I know that might not answer your question.” He laughed nervously.

“We’re glad you did, Mr. Lancer. Thank you.” Jazz’s voice was quiet but sincere.

-----

They pulled into the outskirts of Gotham City at the building marked on his map. It felt like a trap to put it nicely, there were very few other buildings around and it felt suspicious. With Danny unconscious and the weapons the children had only working as distractions or on Ghosts it became clear that if this was a trap the children would be exposed.

“Jasmine, when I get out of the cat jump into the front seat and lock the doors. I’ll signal for you guys to come out if it’s safe.” Mr. Lancer explained as the redhead in the back seat nodded. “I’ll be back... take care of him.”

“We will.” Sam was quick to say. 

Mr. Lancer climbed out of the car as Jasmine climbed into the front seat and sat behind the wheel while Mr. Lancer walked to the front of the car and looked around. The scent of smog was thick in the air, almost suffocating and sickening. 

After a moment he saw movement to his right and glared towards the building.

“Who’s there?” He called.

“You’re observant.” A voice said as a person wearing a black suit with a black bird on the front of it. “The name is Nightwing, and you’re William Lancer, correct?”

Nightwing.

He had heard of him.

“Yes, I am. I was under the impression that I was meeting with a member of the Justice League.” Mr. Lancer stated.

“They’re around, they just have me testing the waters. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

Mr. Lancer let out a distressed noise. “No offence, Mr. Nightwing, but as I told your colleges over the phone I have four children with me who need protection. I don’t have time for a game of telephone. Especially not when one is still bleeding out in my back seat.”

Nightwing tensed. “Wait, what do you mean? You mentioned that you were being chased by government agents but you never mentioned an injury.”

Mr. Lancer mentally kicked himself. “His name is Danny he was shot by a verity of high powered weapons specifically made to destroy what he is, but I warn you now that if you step near my vehicle with intents to harm my student then hero or not you will be dealing with me and my other students.”

Nightwing held up his hand, “I won’t hurt him. I promise, can I see?”

Mr. Lancer looked at Jazz who seemed to have been listening in as she nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, come to the back.”

He lead Nightwing to the back of his car, opening the back hatch that allowed them to see fully Danny laying out with a jacket covering most of him. A mixture of blood and glowing ectoplasm soaked his car in quantities that were concerning. Multiple slowly healing wounds covered his body with the worst of which bandaged with whatever they had managed to get from mini first aid kits from the gas stations.

Nightwing looked at Danny, then at the other three kids. “Are you guys okay?” He asked.

“Do we look okay? We just had to flee from a group of government agents and crazy adults determined to kill our best friend.” Hissed Sam and while Mr. Lancer wanted to scold her it was hard to given the stress and exhaustion they were all feeling.

“I think he meant are any of us injured.” Jazz asked more gently. “To answer that though, no we’re fine. We have a couple of bruises and burns but nothing serious. My brother is the one we’re worried about. We have supplies to treat him but haven’t had the chance or safe place to do it...”

Nightwing frowned, putting his hand to his ear. “B. I have four teens and William Lancer, they’re safe but one of the teens is in rough shape. I’m seeing at least half a dozen injuries. Requesting to bring them to a safehouse for medical attention.” He said, and after a beat of silence nodded. “Okay, William do I have permission to use your car? If I can use your car I have permission to drive you to one of our safe houses.”

“Yes, of course.” Mr. Lancer said as Jasmine climbed back in the back seat after unlocking the doors. Mr. Lancer closed the hatch then climbed into the passenger seat while Nightwing jumped into the front seat.

“Just a few more minutes, okay? How about introductions hm?” Nightwing said, driving down the road. “My name is Nightwing.”

“I’m Jazz and this is my brother Danny.” Jasmine introduced.

“Sam.”

“I’m Tucker or Tuck.” Tucker said after Sam, both sounding more hesitant.

“So Danny is the one who is hurt?”

“Yes.” Mr. Lancer said sadly. “He’s... he’s not a Meta, before you ask. He’s half-Ghost from what I’ve gathered from the kids. There is currently a law our Country is in place that allows anybody with a Ghost Hunting License to hunt, capture, and destroy him.”

Nightwing scowled slightly, “Do you know which law?”

“The Anti-Ecto Control Act.” Sam said. “And by helping us you’re technically breaking the law more than his parents and the agents who shot him down in the street and kept shooting him.”

“You know...” Nightwing smiled slightly, “Vigilantism isn’t entirely legal either, so we’ll just break the law a little bit now and apologize for it later.”

That one sentence made the tension in the car melt away into a puddle of tears. Jasmine, Tucker, Sam, and even Mr. Lancer all cried knowing that not only were they safe but Danny was safe.

Danny was safe and they would fight tooth and nail to keep him that way.

Dc x dp idea 84

Jack and Maddie are legit crazy mad scientist.

They moved to amity before jazz was born. Prior to the justice league. Those who didn’t comply when the moved were swiftly taken care of.

All outside new sources come from them amity has only seen what the fentons want.

The Giw were hired by the Fentons. Both are bad. But who would the town rather deal with the shoot first supposed government. Or the wacky Fenton parents.

And how many parents can exactly actively stake out a school. How many times had they been inside the school during the school day.

That is until mr lancer comes into play. Somehow he managed to slip by and entered the town this year. Earning a position of vice principal right under their noses.

He actively promotes Danny doing better. Actually forcing him to do his work and learn.

He takes notes of Danny’s declining health. Falling asleep in class, the bruises and reports the fentons. Only for nothing to happen.

Lancer then takes notes of the eccentric actions of the fentons. The screaming of tearing the ghosts apart. He knows about the truth of the outside world. He knows this would go against the meta human protection acts. So he makes a mental note to contact the proper services of the need arises.

After the events of the town being yoinked into the infinite realms. He finally acts. Sending out an email and call to the justice league hotline. Unbeknownst to him both being stopped by the Fenton parents.

Obviously they plan to deal with him when the time is right.

The only reason he stays is because no other adult seems to care about the kids. He was the only one who event attempted to check in on them during the ghost flu.

He can’t stand by any longer when he sees the two Fenton parents hunting phantom. See them getting skilled shots in. Actively forcing phantom into Danny. But they don’t stop. Still shooting at Danny.

Mr. Lancer watches as Jazz, Sam and Tucker manage to get them away. He ushers them to his car the five hardly manages to make it out. Danny seriously injured.

It’s only then does the phone connect to the justice league helpline.

[tired-all-the-time22]

Sharing this Hurt™ Danny early because I am frothing at how I drew his expression,,,, this is a good one boys