#I imagine Danny’s not quite healed yet so he’s sort of

[joaniejustwokeup]

DPxDC Prompt:

The next blow sent the human tumbling into the wall. It wheezed and spat up a gob of blood, pulling itself up on trembling arms and legs.

Pathetic.

“So this is the mortal who captured our young king’s attention. The so-called warrior who he trusted with the sacred duty of guarding his core.”

A shadowed hand pinned it to the wall and it uselessly pawed at the blade-like claws pressed against its fragile throat.

“How a weakling like you seduced High King Phantom, I’ll never know.”

The human squeezed its eyes shut. I’m sorry Danny, it mouthed with cracked and bleeding lips.

The impudence.

Slammed into the ruined bricks once more, the human let out a breathless cry.

“You dare address him like that. You dare to call upon his living name!” Dagger sharp teeth dripped shadowy ectoplasm inches from the mortal’s flesh.

“I’m doing him a favor, disposing of you.”

There was silence.

Then.

The human looked up with glowing green eyes.

A wave of unearthly force erupted from its body.

A dual layered voice echoed out from its miserable throat.

“Oh you just made a BIG mistake.”

[mymadmedleyw]

Portal

Summary: It represented something like hope, something unearthly, something worth examining, but now, for Maddie, it was nothing else just a reminder, telling that she failed.

(ao3 | ff)

---

Maddie was staring at the swirling green madness, trying to recall the days when it wasn't a curse or seemed more than an acidic green-ness of doom, but- she shook her head, she couldn't tell. Now, at the present, she couldn't remember those days.

Her son was dead, and partly she had made it happen. And she called herself a good scientist! But, after all, she called herself a ghost-huntress too, and...

She bit her lips. She had been both at a certain moment of time and also a mother, who should have been a support to her little boy, but- now, who she was? But this damn thing couldn't answer her question either, it was wordless and- and just the shifting swirl was speaking in silence, telling a tale that she hated to hear, it told that- that she had failed. As a scientist, as a ghost-hunter, and as a mother too.

Maddie took a careful step closer, wondering. Had it been painful? Surely, it had supposed to be. It had killed her boy. But- she almost could imagine him, shrieking in pain and falling to the floor, unaware yet that his life had changed and that- that it never would be normal again. She had made it. She had let it happen. She had killed her baby. Just as-

"Mom!" a sudden shouting voice made her stop to take another step. And then, in the corner of her eye, a bright green light slowly was flying closer. "Come back, it's dangerous."

She had to laugh at the note – if she could have been able to crack a smile on it. Dangerous, he said, dangerous! It had been dangerous, a hazard too at the first place and-

Suddenly something grabbed her shoulder and then in a blink of an eye she was at the other side of the lab, being pushed down in a chair. A glowing green gaze locked her eyes, worried. "Mom, you're okay?"

Maddie had to blink a few, realising what had just happened, that she was placed – by flying obviously – away from the portal, because- because she had been standing too close to it, that- that she had been too close to harm herself with it, just like-

A little shake got her out of the thinking. "Mom! "

Maddie shook her head, trying to concentrate. It took a huge effort, but then she looked back at the bright gaze, nodding. "I'm okay, sweetie, don't worry, I was just thinking there."

Her boy – now in ghost form – moved backwards, giving a sceptical look, crossing his arms and floating in the air with spectral tails. "It's dangerous, mom. You can't just walk into the Ghost Zone. For humans, it's better to wear something like uh- sort of protection or else who knows how it could affect the body or even hurt you. It’s not safe for you, to walk in, just like that.” he lectured, but the only word she heard was the word ‘hurt’.

Hurt … not safe… just like that… dangerous. Fatal maybe even – not maybe, literally, because- because- Now, it reached the edge, Maddie buried her face in her hands, breaking out weeping. What had she done? He was- he was worried over her that she would get hurt by the portal and- and she supposed to be the mother, to take care of her son and- who was she now? Nothing else, just a failure.

For a moment there wasn’t anything else just her quite sobbing, and then something made a bright flash of light and a nearly uncomfortable cold something embraced her, flinching by the touch, but not releasing her otherwise. It took a second to realise what it was, what – who – was hugging her, comforting her. Maddie pushed him away.

“Danny, change back immediately!” Her son, confused and surprised blinked at her. Maddie stared at him seriously. “Now, sweetie!” The boy raised his arms in the air, giving up, but wincing in pain by the movement, only confirming by it, that him, being ‘human’ caused him indeed trouble.

“Okay, okay, gee!” rolled the human formed boy his bright blue eyes that were still dimmed by the hurt he still was in. “Ancients, if someone had told me a week ago, my parents would force me to stay Phantom, I would have thought they were too long in the Thermos and lost their mind.” he mumbled under his nose, but then the white rings appeared and his form changed back into the ghost-state. Maddie gave a sigh of relief and wiped off the remained tears on her face.

“Honey,” she turned to her baby, “just because I am still processing this whole, it doesn’t mean, you have to change back to human and comfort me, just because you assume I’d be less freaked out.”

The boy in embarrassment scratched the back of his neck, this time with a lack of frowning by the movement. “I thought- I thought…” but then, he stayed wordless.

Maddie reached out for him, slowly grabbing his uninjured hand, looking straight into the glowing green gaze. “Danny, you have to heal, and you said, you heal faster as Phantom. Staying ghost is obligatory till then, got it?” the boy sheepishly nodded, she continued. “I might not be able to protect you from everything, but I am your mother, and as a mother, I have to take care of you as much as I can.” she gave the explanation.

The boy pursued his slightly trembling lips, visibly near to crying, but he didn’t say anything, he was just quietly floating in the air, rubbing his upper arm uncomfortably. “Okay, but-“ he gazed at the floor, but then lifted his eyes, letting out a breath. “Just don’t go into the Ghost Zone without protection, okay? If you want to explore it or something, tell me and we’ll figure out how I can show you around safely later.”

Maddie stared at her son, shocked, he was- but after all, he was the hero of the town, the Ghost Boy, protecting Amity Park from the other ghosts and… even if she was his mother, she didn’t have a word who was in charge connected to ghosts. She nodded.

“All right,” he accepted it, and moved a bit backwards, giving a quick glimpse towards the portal. “You don’t might if I shut it off now, do you?” he flew towards the panel. Maddie shook her head, slapping herself mentally why didn’t she yet do it, after the other ghost had appeared and disappeared, and…

“Uh-“ she facepalmed, cursing herself that she hadn't been thinking at all. The ghosts were coming to Amity Park from the Ghost Zone, through their portal and- and if any showed up right now, Danny was still weak and healing to fight them and- she was so stupid not shutting it off immediately back then.

“Mom?” came suddenly a questioning voice. Maddie raised her head towards her boy, the lack of swirling green made the lab almost dark.

“Sorry, sweetie, I- I really need to get used to it. So, uh- if the portal is off, there wouldn’t be any ghost issues?” she wondered, the answer was a soft chuckle.

“No, unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that.” her son explained. “But I guess, it can keep them away for a while, but for example for Cujo… well, he could slip out even if it is closed.” Maddie’s brows raised up, he continued, reading by her expression. “He is a ghost dog, harmless, mostly.” her eyes widened, by the last note, the boy waved in the air. “I mean, mostly, as a little puppy, mom.” well, that didn’t calm her down, but- after all, what she could do.

Maddie stood up from the chair and walked towards the stairs, but then she turned back to her baby who was now, floating thoughtfully next to the portal in his ghost-form. She had to admit, even if they were scientists studying ghosts, they would have never ever thought they would once actually meet with spectral beings and not even imagining that their town would turn out the middle of paranormal occurrences, and- and not even conceiving that their son would turn out half-ghost by their-

Maddie let out a shaky breath that grabbed the boy’s attention, making him fly next to her, examining her worried. “Mom, are you sure, you’re okay?” she couldn’t tell it or put it into words, but then seemingly she didn’t need to, namely suddenly he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry, I know how hard it can be for you, but I- I don’t blame you, okay? I’m okay like that. And if- if I once had to do this again, giving up being Phantom or living a normal life, I still would choose this, no matter what.”

Her hands started to tremble, but then she squeezed her boy, realising that partly, he had been hiding this part of his life – or afterlife – because he felt it would upset them, blaming themselves for it, creating the portal and… then it clogged together. The portal. Now, it all became clear. Not only her son turned half-ghost but-

“This Wisconsin Ghost…” she started, recalling the ghost who had been helping her, patching her boy, keeping him alive and things – god, how many breakdowns she had had in one day…

Her son released her, suddenly, facing her. “You mean Plasmius?” Maddie nodded, yes, after all, only her husband called the spectre ‘the Wisconsin Ghost’, and in real, they hadn’t ever given a chance to ghosts to introduce themselves... They shot first and asked questions never, especially if that was about- about… Phantom. She buried those disturbing thoughts rather right now, in the back of her mind, only focusing on the current issue.

The boy ran his hand through his white hair. “Yeah, I should definitely thank him, saving my life…” he whispered, and then, his lips curled into a half-smile. “Gee, actually, I hadn’t even thought, he would help me, but-“ his expression fell into an unreadable one. “After all, he was right, if things turned bad, he would be the only person to understand me…” he pursued his lips to that note. Maddie was sure that note meant something to him, something deep, but she didn’t push it, just as he forced himself to leave that thought behind, turning to her suddenly. “Sorry, what you wanted to ask about Plasmius?”

Maddie had to think, what she wanted to ask, but then, it reappeared in her mind. “It’s Vlad Masters, isn’t it?” she voiced, her son’s mouth opened and closed a few times, putting together what she was saying.

“I- I didn’t- I don’t suppose to-“ he stuttered. “We- we have a pact not telling- well, not telling- I-“

Maddie put a hand on his shoulder, giving her a look, tilting her head. “You didn’t tell it. I figured this out myself.” she calmed her, and indeed it seemed his ghostly body released the sudden tense. “It was the Proto-Portal, right?” he didn’t need to give a nod, she knew it. Now, she started to understand the man too, not everything, but slowly, the things began to clear up. Especially the expression that had been readable on the ghost-man’s face as he had spotted the injured boy, and Maddie had asked for help. That had been fear, horror, if she had hurt the ghost-boy, because Vlad was aware of who her son was. The Wisconsin Ghost that had once attacked them, the man who had a clear obsession over getting her, had been worried over the other part-ghost, because- because even if they were each other enemies, they still shared the same fate, bonding over their state.

Maddie gave a quick glimpse towards the now shut-off portal, she wasn’t sure when she would be capable of stepping over it, but then she turned to her boy, making up a convincing smile. “Pizza?”

Her half-ghost son smiled back at her. “Pizza sounds good, I’m starving.” he said, phasing excitedly through the door of the lab. Maddie stared back at the cursed invention, but then, followed her boy, concentrating on preparing lunch instead and somehow making a promise to herself to never ever create another portal. She couldn’t even tell if she was once able to survive the guilt over this, or either the previous one.

[alitheamateur]

The Grind-Chapter 5

Warnings: Language. Mentions of nudity.

A/N: First of all, I’d like to extend a bear hug to the ones who are showing any love at all to this piece!!!! I can't begin to express my gratitude. And secondly, I know to some, the plot may be bit slow right now, but HOLD ON! I can assure you, there is LOADS TO COME, so buckle up, buttercups.

The Grind-Chapter 5

I had to make a visit to Danny Mendez’s training spot for article research that morning, per Ryan’s demands.  Colton had playfully teased me, suggesting I run his opponent over with the car, or slip him something to ensure he’d fail the pre-fight drug test, to give him the guaranteed upper hand on Danny. I had originally intended for the piece to be strictly centered around the life, and journey of Pittsburgh’s silent underdog, Colton. However, my nagging objections hadn’t convinced Ryan, and he’d instructed me that the piece would be better received by the public if I covered both competitors. Although I had never worked directly with Mendez, word around the office from coworkers who had sat down with him in the past, was that he was quite the bombastic pig. Oh, lovely. As if having to appear completely unbiased wasn’t already going to be enough struggle, now I’d have to spend my entire morning penning notes as he stroked his own roaring ego.

I checked the given address Danny’s trainer had emailed me, taken aback with surprise when I wheeled into the parking lot. It was a far cry from the gritty, seedy vibe at Mac’s gym. I glided through the automatic doors of the tawdry, two level complex and was greeted by a clearly well-trained receptionist.

“Hi, uh… I’m Liv Elliot with the Pitt Pilot. I have a meeting this morning with Danny Mendez.”

She escorted  into the glass box of the elevator, where I kept any further communication with her to the bare minimum. The entire drive over I stewed and fretted over the dread of having to even look Mendez in the eyes.  My chest puffing with quite the prejudiced attitude, and a newly protective girlfriend instinct kicking in. I withheld an airy squeak at the thought “girlfriend.” Until this instant, I prided myself in the stern, professional ethic I displayed in all aspects of my work life. But now, I was struggling to sort through, and control all the newfound feelings that Colton had provoked in me as of late. The ding of arrival sounded when we had reached the second floor, opening to reveal a painfully illuminated gym facility. Treadmills, and weight benches, and therapy bikes, oh my.

“Mr. Mendez is right over there, Miss Elliott. He’s expecting you.” She pointed her manicured finger to the left toward a huddle of men.

I readied the recorder on my cell, and boldly marched in their direction, the subtle clack of my black pumps announcing my approach. He was waylaying into a battered speedbag, but turned his smug face to me without ceasing his blows, obviously in shameless effort to impress me. Danny had countless tattoos much like Colton, but his height towered over me at least double the distance his challenger did. He was a very large man, however not quite as amply defined.

“Afternoon, Olivia. Come to get the word from the real champ for your story?”

He indeed impressed me alright. With only a handful of words he had already tempted me with lacing his open water bottle with a certain substance that could easily disqualify him from stepping into the ring with Colton.

“Actually, it’s just Liv, Mr. Mendez. How are you?”

One of his pathetic goons promptly handed him a towel to wipe the sweat from his slick, hairless head, and I tagged along on his heels to find a seat next to the empty caged octagon.

“Is this where you train for every fight, Danny? I know most fighters tend to find one gym they favor and stick to it.”  

“it is, yes. I own the place, in fact. None of the shit hole facilities in the city had the right feel for me. So, I took it upon myself to build this one. I’m a firm believer in doing something yourself if you want it done right, Miss Elliott.”

My eyes may have rolled instinctively in obvious hatred for the guy. I wanted to get what I needed as soon as possible and bid riddance to this prick.

“I was just about to hop in the cage with my grappling partner, you mind? You can pass the word to that amateur asshole Ritter about what he’s got comin’ to him next weekend, huh?”

To say I wanted to rattle the stupid, snide smile right off his bearded face would be an amplified understatement.

“Please! Don’t let me stop you. I’m here to see what a day in the life of the champ is like, right?”

He chuckled at my statement, dumbly oblivious that it was intended as 100% sarcasm.

I wasn’t at all pleasantly surprised at what happened in the half hour I had spent there. He was indeed the middleweight champion, and I learned very quickly why. He, in my opinion, wasn’t what I would call more talented than Colton on any level, but he definitely wasn’t the scrub I ignorantly assumed he would be either. Unlike the utter animalistic indignation Colton displayed in the cage, Danny was so poised and light on his feet. His expression was focused, yet calm. I noticed instantly he was the type of fighter who paced himself for the duration of rounds, making sure he kept his breaths as even as possible, analyzing every move he made, and why. I wouldn’t say that I left the gym with doubts that Colton could come out on top. However, I feared the victory wouldn’t come served to him on a silver platter as I’d hoped. Mendez unquestionably proved every bit of gossip that insinuated he was a dreadful human being. Unfortunately though, he wasn’t the slouch I needed him to be on the mat.

I went back to my quaint cubical at the Pilot to compile the very limited, nearly useless comments Danny had given me for the spread, but my protesting mind had other plans. Colton had yet to reach out on the report he had gotten from the doctor, and there was no chance of me focusing on anything aside from him. I promised to him I wouldn’t pry, so texting him was a no-go. But, he did tell me that anything going on with him, was indeed my business as well? My over-worked, over analytical brain had nearly reached over-heating, when a gentle buzz rattled my tiny metal desk.

Message from: Colton

How soon can you make it over to Mac’s?

It was almost as if I had willed the text into existence. I raised the rose gold watch on my wrist into view, 1:57 p.m. Getting an early start this morning with the commute to Danny’s gym, meant I would be able to add drive time onto my hours for the day. Sure, I’d still be shy roughly an hour shy from a full days work, but Ryan would understand if I explained that one of the competitors from the match I was covering may be facing a detrimental injury, and he would shoo me to catch the happenings. I hoisted my black, alligator skinned satchel over my shoulder, laptop in tow, and trudged impatiently downstairs to the parking garage.

The short drive to the gym, I couldn’t seem to still my tapping fingers on the peeling steering wheel of my silver SUV. I tried to occupy myself with the radio in attempt to build a blockade from the piling thoughts racking my mind, but it was entirely useless. He knew I was working, why had he needed me at Mac’s? Was the hand injury worse than both of us imagined? Had the doctor advised him to bow out gracefully from the fight against Mendez? My tripping mind, and the fussing over a doomed lost of hypothesis nearly teleported me to Mac’s before I even knew where I was.

I pushed through the double doors of the building, and slowed to a more casual pace giving off the illusion that I wasn’t an eager, panicky mess. Colton was easing his half naked body into a scuffed silver tub resembling that of a horse troth like Mrs. Bishop, the widow down the street from my childhood home in Westfield, had transformed into a flower bed. There was a vicious wince spread wide on his lips as he lowered to be seated, and my eyebrows upturned in evident concern.

“Hey doc, mind comin’ over for a second?” He motioned the salty-haired man over to where I now stood at his side, petting back his combed over hair.

When I had gotten a closer look, I realized the painful twitches of his face where thankfully caused by the rigid ice bath he sat in, the cold therapy submersion aided in the healing of his exhausted muscles.

“Dr. Cooper, this is Liv. The pain in my ass who insisted I let ya’ take a good look at my hand here. Would you please tell her what we talked about earlier? I know she’s too hard-headed to believe it outta my mouth.” The smart-elic tone of his voice generally would’ve set me off, but the way he intertwined his fingers through mine when he spoke to the doctor was his saving grace for the moment.

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss. As Colton said, I did take a good look at the hand earlier this morning. I took an x-ray, revealing no broken bones, which is obvious good news. And after observing him in the ring a bit, it seems Mr. Ritter does have some severe inflammation going on. However, with a series of cortisone shots, I don’t see any reason why he shouldn’t proceed with the fight.”

My eyes met Colton’s with a nod of relief, happy for the weight of worry to be finally lifted from my chest. “Thank you so much for the explanation, Doctor. And thanks for taking such good care of this one.”  

Dr. Cooper returned to the conversation he was previously having with one of the other fighters Mac was working with, leaving Colton and I to ourselves. I retrieved the large towel he’d laid to the floor in close proximity to his bath, handing it to him, but yanking it back swiftly before he could pry it completely from my hands, “Well, well. Looks like now that we know your hand is fine, you’ll have to come up with another excuse when you lose to Mendez.”

A wide, wicked smirk danced over his handsome face, and with one instantaneous motion, I was plunged into the subzero pool of ice. The fitted material of my wool pencil skirt now clung tighter to my figure, and the collar of my blouse now heavy from saturation.

“Oh God, I didn’t mean to pull you so hard. Guess I don’t know my own strength, baby. Sorry...” His shoulders shrugged mimicking innocence in the matter of my now trembling appendages, as he patted dry his own wet chest.

“I probably had that one comin’, huh.” I reasoned.

He guided me to the locker room, offering up a change of some spare sweats that obviously swallowed me from his cubby, and he wrapped his arm over my shoulders as we shivered into the nighttime streets back to my place.

 I was dangerously teetering on what I swore was frost bite after travelling the 11 blocks to my place, so my now extremely apologetic boyfriend had taken it upon himself to run me a scalding bath. I stripped off the damp cotton leaving a trail of articles from the living room to the bathroom plopping onto the floor, in urgent effort to dive into the water as quickly as possible. Sadly, the bathtub in my miniscule home wasn’t nearly large enough to fit the both of us, so Colt had dropped his clothes in the dryer then situated himself in the floor near the tub, propping his back against the wall to keep me company while I attempted to regain feeling in my toes. 

“How’d it go with Mendez today?” Colton asked pulling off the unraveling toboggan from his head.

“Oh, he’s just a modern day, prince charming, that one. Let me tell ya’.” He widened his eyes in agreement, no words needed to express his agreeance.

He’d given me the run down from everything else with Dr. Cooper this morning, and reenacted the “crunch time” sermon Mac religiously gave him when the closeness of fight night approached.

“So, your parents… Will they be coming next Saturday?”

We had limited conversations about our families up until this point, but one thing he had told me, were his parents, Michael and Beth, were his biggest supporters. Granted, his mother had definitely resisted the idea when she discovered he had taken such a violent career interest, making him promise to “use his head, and hang it up” if things ever got too rough for him on the mat.

“Yeah, they’ll be here on Thursday dad said. I wanted to talk to you about that…” I boosted up out of the now cooling water, my full attention on him. “I’m supposed to meet ‘em for dinner, and uh, I’d like you t’ come. Unless you think it’s too soon, then I totally understand.” The antsy man kept his eyes on the sage colored shag of a rug he was seated on, pulling nervously on some strands of the soft material.

I reflected back on a remark he’d made about his mom in a talk we had regarding her bout with cancer, and now 6th year in remission, where he’d said he wished he was half the warrior she was. And then, informed me that he had never actually taken any girl home previously because there were none he considered worthy of his mother’s company.  The sudden realization that apparently, I was deemed “worthy” had me buzzing with pleasure, my head swimming with overwhelming delight. Was this what the blindsiding smack of love felt like?

“If you want me there, then I’d love to. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to invite me, Colt.”

He leaned his arm into the tub to clutch my bubble covered hand. “Liv, do I seem like the type of guy who feels like he has to do anything? Let’s be real here, girl. You ‘n I both know, I only do things I want to do, that’s just the type ‘a guy I am.”

Boy, did I know that. He hadn’t been shy about his bull-headed tendencies in the passing months we’d spent getting to know each other, and who was I to belittle him for the very same attribute I carried myself. Cupping his check in sheer admiration, I accepted. “Name the time & place, mister! I’ll be there.”

Lifting me from the bath, he tucked my now very toasty skin into bed, insisting that if he stayed over, there’s no way he’d let me get any sleep so he should head home. A lingering peck to my lips, followed by the same to my nose then forehead, topped off with a playful “noogie” to the crown of my head, Colton Ritter had smothered the urge to say, that no matter the resistance he had tried to muster up, he was in fact unequivocally falling in love with me.  Rather than unveiling those very sentiments, he secured the door to my now dark apartment, doubling back to check to lock, spatting murmurs of regret as he walked to his tired old Chevy truck, wishing he wasn’t going home to a bed without me in it. 

TAGLIST: @torialeysha @eap1935

[justjessame]

Sins of the Father: Chapter 3

I met Danny as he was coming out of the guest room that our invalid was in - grinning up at me over as I was weighed down with a tray laden with soup, bandages, and other paraphernalia that I’d need to act as his nurse - I shooed him away with a promise to go swimming with him when I was finished.  

Corky held the door open for me and started to follow me in, but I shrugged him off, rolling my eyes as his narrowed.  “Ever hear of HIPAA, Cork?”  He gave a long suffering sigh, but didn’t argue and I felt a small victory.  Hip checking the door behind me to shut it, I leaned against it for a beat to catch my breath and get my bearings.  I wasn’t really suited for this cloak and dagger crap.  

The room was as light and airy as all the others in our house.  I was gratified to see no one thought that our patient needed dark and dreary to heal.  The doctor had come earlier to change his IV drip, but he’d left instructions on the bandages that wrapped up the man’s face.  Clearing my throat to give him ample warning that I was in the room, I pushed off the door and started forward. 

“Hello?”  I didn’t raise my voice, thinking that with the facial injury- even with the IV drugs - his head must be fit to burst with pain.  “I’m Esme Roper, my father asked me to come bring your lunch and change your bandages.”  

He didn’t speak, but he twitched a bit toward my voice.  Moving closer still, I sighed when I noticed that the end table was cluttered and the chair had a bit on it as well.  Sitting the tray down at the end of the bed, I tossed what I could tell was trash into the bin and put what I couldn’t make sense out of the way, then moved the tray onto the table.  

“There, that’s better.”  I pushed the chair closer to the bed and leaned over him.  “Now, would you prefer your soup first, or your bandages to be changed before we attempt it?”  

I watched as his hand twitched.  The idea of showing weakness, even in his state, wasn't something he was comfortable with - interesting.  “I can hardly eat lying prone,” he murmured, his voice hardly a whisper. 

Fighting a grin, I nodded.  “Of course not,” I reached out and he flinched.  “I promise I won’t hurt you,” his gaze met mine and I saw a look of disbelief.  “Or at least I’ll try my damndest NOT to.”  With his help, I got him situated against the slatted headboard with a few pillows to cushion his back.  “There, see, isn’t that better?”  He’d hissed a few times, which made me think that his ruined face wasn’t nearly all that he was dealing with pain-wise.  “Now, soup or bandages?”  

He was studying me, eyes black-rimmed and staring.  “Soup.”  Another nod from me and I reached for the bowl and spoon.  “I can feed myself.”

“Yet I’ve been sent to do it for you,” I argued, not giving over either.  Dipping the spoon into the liquid, I lifted it carefully to his lips.  “Are you going to make me do the train in the tunnel?”  He chuckled despite himself and I slipped the spoon inside, catching him off-guard, but earning a bit of a twinkle in one swollen eye.  

He allowed me to feed him, and tease him while I did it.  Laughing a bit and even giving some back.  “They did a number on you, didn’t they?”  I asked, as I fed him the final bits of the soup.  “I do hope you gave some back to them, just a bit?”  He shook his head, but I didn’t know if that meant he hadn’t or that he didn’t quite know what to make of me.  “Thank you.” 

“For?” I was putting the bowl down and he didn’t see my hands shake at the idea of what MIGHT have happened to my little brother if he hadn’t taken the pounding he had to rescue him.  

“Saving Danny,” it came out quieter than I’d wanted, but he heard it.  I turned back to him with the bandaging scissors and the rest of my first aid supplies.  “If they did this to you, I can only imagine what they might have done to him.”  

He stopped me from beginning, one long fingered, elegant hand touching mine.  “I - I’m glad I did it.”  Swallowing down a lump that felt like a boulder, I nodded again.  “Do be gentle?”  

I smiled and raised the scissors.  A few clips and I removed the bandage that was most bloody, the one that wasn’t creating a bridge to keep his nose stable, and replaced it carefully with a fresh one, taping it in place with enough care that I hoped I wasn’t giving him more discomfort.  An odd thought, given how I’d felt when I learned of the task at first.  “Your ribs?”  He grimaced and I lowered the sheets to pull up his t-shirt.  “Did the doctor not offer you any sort of compression for them?”  They were a horrible shade that matched his eyes.  He gave a sort of shrug and I sighed.  

I was contemplating whether or not we had anything I could put together to make his ribs less of a painful mess when he broke through my thoughts.  “You were away at school?” 

“Yes,” I pulled down his shirt and tucked the sheet back in around him.  I’d have to look into ways to give battered ribs comfort online.  “I just graduated.”  

“Nursing?” I couldn’t hold back the laughter that bubbled over at that.  “Is that funny?”

Glancing up at him, propped up against the headboard with his poor face cushioned behind so much wrapping, I nodded again.  “Very.”  Leaving him alone on the bed, I fretted with the tray and cleaned up the mess of rebandaging him.  “Any nursing experience I have comes from a little brother whose curiosity exceeds the little voice in his head that might whisper that he shouldn’t try it.”  I bit my lip at the memories of all the bandaged wounds I’d done up on Danny.  “And the others who seem to get in scrapes as well -” my father’s hangers on, his security and his ‘friends’.  

“Seems odd then,” his tone was quiet, thoughtful and it drew my attention back to him.  He was squinting across the room, trying to make sense of something.  

“What seems odd?”  His eyes flashed to me, the equation he’d been so intent on working out broken.  

“You’re so handy to have close by,” he was matter of fact.  “Why send you away to school?” 

“Ah,” I finished gathering the trash and tossed it in the bin.  “Who said I was sent away?”  Tilting my head, I stared down at him.  “Perhaps, Mr. Quince?” His head dipped to assent to the name and I went on. “Perhaps I wanted to go away to school.  If you weren’t bedridden, you’d see that this isn’t some castle where the princess gets to run wild and free.”  He was back to studying me and I knew I was giving him more than Dad expected, but I wasn’t Jed.  I didn’t prefer to bare my body before I bare my soul.  “You only saw a party, a celebration with light and fun.  Full of people who were enjoying themselves before the terror set in.  It’s always there - those people, that noise, and -” 

He was still watching me, taking it in.  Not only my words, I could tell and I knew I’d said and shown more than enough.  

“You’re probably tired.”  Clearing my throat, I stepped close to the bed again.  “Let me help you lie down again.”  

Getting him prone, with his head slightly elevated, wasn’t as difficult as getting him sitting up.  I was turning to pick up the tray again when his hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping me.  

“Thank you,” I was moments from shrugging his gratitude off, but he didn’t allow it.  “Please, don’t.”  Staring down at him, I was surprised to see a vulnerability in his dark rimmed eyes.  “I mean it, thank you, Esme.”  

“You’re welcome,” it came out hushed, as if the very walls had ears.  Which they very well could, given our home.  He released my wrist and I picked up the tray, walking to the door and tapping on it with the edge.  Frisky opened it, clearly Corky had been irritated with me and left - forcing another to take his place.  “Thank you,” I sighed, as he grabbed the tray from me when I cleared the threshold.  “Just set it down and I’ll have -” but he shook his head.

“It’s alright, Esme.”  He assured me.  “Danny’s waiting for you to go for a dip in the pool.” His lips curled into a smile and I felt some of the tension start to leave me.  “Go and relax, you just got home.”

Glad someone remembered, I thought.  Heading toward my room, and wondering just what this Quince was going to add to the mess that was the Roper way of life.

[lifeofnejez]

DAIRY AND DREAM ENTRIES: Writings in August 2019

11th AUGUST 2019

Kept waking up in and out of consciousness.

Felt like multiple dreams in one dream, will describe the ones I remember.

Before it happens, i feel this force, start to hear my heart, really loud than that fades out whilst my whole sight goes vertigo. Whilst I try and focus on calming my mind (cause I know it’s about to happen cause I can feel it) I hear something in my right ear like a loud fuzzy beeping (but not really beeping) noise, whilst still feeling this force inside of me.

How I can describe the force is like, impact.

It feels like impact, the best way I can describe it; for me personally, it’s close to feeling like when I got hit by a car, but more intense and surreal.

I woke up see my mum come into my room to do the curtains, thinking I was asleep,

But I was asleep, but in that moment I thought I was awake seeing her,

Then I fall back to sleep again, still in my dream, than the same thing happens again as before, vision blurs, force of impact whilst buzzing noise in my ear,

Next dream, I’m dreaming feel the same thing, wake up look at my phone, phone ran out of battery, woke up to charge it, can’t charge it, look in the mirror and i looked bad, my neck looked broken I looked hella run down. I start then hurting myself more, cause I realised that I wasn’t really awake and the person in the mirror didn’t look like me, so I start hittin myself with a remote. (Which happened in real life in the past) calling out for my ma but my voice wasn’t working (as per usually) like I be saying stuff but can’t hear anything.

I then start watching hitting myself and being violent towards myself in the mirror. Then Im back in my body, than i go into my mums room, felt like I was walking, but I wasnt, i floated there, but in that moment I was thinking and saying in my head, “am I dying? Is that why my body looks so bad, is this what they are showing me? That my body is dying?” Than I saw my ma curled up asleep, when I knew before, she was awake in my reality, somehow I managed to float above her still calling her name, but nothing comes out of my voice, But cause I was floating above her, I knew I was dreaming. Than the thought of losing control panics me, Then it happens again, the feeling or force impact and noise in my ear, beeping and fuzziness.

I shake myself off and wake up again, thinking I woke out of the dream again.

Start chanting, protect my energy protect my light whilst doing a hand symbol on my root chakra.

When it feels like I’m awake, there’s a delay in my movement. Like I tell my body to move over and it will take 3secs before it moves.

Anyways I started to keep falling in and out of consciousness it felt like, feeling vertigo. Like everything is moving whilst I’m still but I can feel everything moving around me.

Everything starts to calm down, than I start feeling my aura around me and I felt my aura like, going inside of me. Like being self absorbed, like the feeling of attract.

The attached photo is the best way to describe which direction I kind of saw my aura flowing.

When I first saw the light around me, it was the ‘oral sucking / silent obvious brooding’ then I realised what was happening, managed to concentrate on my light and started to just calm the light down to ‘boundary containment than to power will display’ than I felt this force of light shine through my body like, this feeling or force of light just punched its way through my body, I scream, but can’t hear me, saw myself at s different angle with this light going through me.

Than I Wake up again, in a different dreAm,I do the hand symbol again on my root chakra. Not knowing where I am in that moment, was just calm space. Than vertigo and the impact starts happening again.

I start to imagine what makes me happy and that’s the sun, so I imagine the sun.... than I had this imagine of a bald guy who was sweating loadqs, looks like Egyptian. Than back in the body, look towards the sun, felt like I was worshiping the sun, like the love I have for it there was much more than the love I have for it now. It felt like I saw the sun as a protector. Anyways as I start worshiping the sun, it got hotter and brighter and brighter. Than it happens again, feeling of the force.

I think what I just wrote was inbetween the first one and the one with my mum from this reality. The order of it all might be wrong, as it was many dreams in one.

Anyway the last very dream I had before I wrote this, was the feeling of Impact again, as it always starts with that, Than I wake up to see, I’m not even kidding you, a cat lady walking down this wooden curve stairs. She sees me, it felt like she was confused to see me but happy to see me. She had some crazy weird clothes on but was fluffy herself. Literally looked like something from cats but with just some weird clothes on, which looks like clothes from Japan.

Anyways than I realised that wasn’t real and I woke up.

Looked at phone, saw danni’s face and I knew I was back 🤣

All these dreams happened within half hour to 40mins and that’s not all of the dreams I don’t think. As I can’t really detail the others.

————/——//////—————————————

Recently I’ve been seeing and hearing things which have lead me to do stuff, some childish stuff as well. But it was like I had to do it to really learn. Losing the one you love will always put you on a different path to self healing. A heartbreak can block the heart chakra but it can also open it. I ended up ending a circle with this beautiful women who is so in the 5D at the moment. Which I still regret now as there was a lot of love within our connection. Me doing this childishs act, being fearful of a third party situation has lead me down a karmic circle that I had to recognise and heal from. I’m having troubles understanding if it’s emotional attachment, past life or just my own addiction toxicity. To be honest, I’m just trying to heal it all. I have stopped smoking weed now for the last 4days. Which I believe has heightened my vision and has giving me mental clarity with the direction I want to go and how i feel towards everything in general.

After the dream above I keep seeing the Egyptian man now and again. I was letting go and crying my eyes out all morning on the 15th August 2019. Full moon in Aquarius. Whilst I was laying there letting go, being all mad at the universe, blaming myself and everything around me, sinking in this really low frequency level. I remember laying on my bed with my arms up and my visions started playing up. I kept imagining I was the Egyptian guy on some sandstone which was quite high up laying there, dust flying everywhere, desert feeling and he was basically doing the same thing. I kept seeing my face then his face.

What also happened was cause I was on such a low frequency I was able to see the murkiness of my thoughts. I had this gross sticky stuff coming out of my eyes like black. Still in imagination.

————————/-//————————————-

16th August 2019

I was meditating earlier and saw the Egyptian guy again, he keeps popping in and out of my visions, i keep seeing him when I’m driving, meditating etc etc, just a picture of him in my head. I can detail him a little bit more now, more than I could before. He’s some bald guy with blue eyes, smiley, wears rugs and sandals. Has a stick.

He took me to see where he sleeps, seems like a tent place with loads of staffs and rocks and weapons and crystals about. I asked if he was a blacksmith, he said sort off but with crystals and stones. He had this staff which was long and had a globe on top off it. The globe was moonstone as he told me. He had others just hanging up. Some with laborite, amethyst and loads more. Which is weird cause I’ve been thinking about creating a crystal jewellery company in my own reality, but before I wanted to make jewellery, I wanted to make crystal weapons. When I was in his tent looking around I go over towards a table and I saw a crystal knife. One I’ve always imagined making myself.

I asked him, “are you going to show and help me with my jewellery is this why?” He nodded, smiled and said yes in such a graceful way.

So unearthly, I asked him is he by himself?

He said they took his wife, or he doesn’t know where his wife has gone. He was by himself in a big sort of tent place in a desert. I felt as though no one was there for miles and I mean miles, felt like a whole continent.

Because he was alone I think I realised where one of my toxic behaviours where coming from. The fear of loneliness came from him I think, he loved him wife so much and just wanted her to be with him. But somethings happened which I don’t fully understand yet. I wonder why I kept feeling so sad in my own life, my mum cried to me the other day cause she thought I was lonely. I’m not lonely though cause I have a whole community behind me but I was sad cause I was lonely. But maybe this feeling wasn’t my feeling, maybe it was his. Maybe I hacked into his emotional state when I dreamt off him and not me not recognising it sooner, lead me to believe it was my own life. Maybe all this time my fear of being lonely had something to do with him. Anyways he’s happy cause he had company for a moment I can feel. He seems super intuitive and such a nice person, I don’t get any bad vibes, but I’m still trying to protect my energy from any other entities. He told me his name was Arkminist, like alchemist but I’m a bit unsure how to spell it. He told me to try and hunt for an amethyst crystal with three points. It wasn’t a cluster as such, but apart of a cluster. I imagined what the crystal looks like and i can still picture it now. This crystal is symbolic for something and I think there is some information that it holds that only I can unlock to see.

When I was working last night I was looking st my rose quartz and I saw waves coming from it. Crystals hold more than just intentions, maybe you can use them to send messages to and threw roams. As I wrote that I hear a buzzz in my ear... I hope I’m on the right direction / path. I miss my friend so much... I hope she’s okay.

—————————————————————

I’ve come to realisation that the 5th dimensional consciousness is already here. It’s happening now, I need to know that me and everyone else on this planet are unconditional bliss, full of love and we should work towards to expanding our consciousness. I think the 5th dimensional is just an awareness of everything and I mean everything. It’s about living in the moment, time exists now. Pain leads to another form of awakening and you should be grateful for it. Understand and be aware of patterns, always serve with love. Fear and hate are low vibration state which is made in the 3D form : the avatar form. For me personally, I feel like I’m travelling in different dimensions recently and I feel like it’s an awakening for myself. Specially now I’ve started to heal myself, I feel as through my sub consciousness has heightened.

You have to heal yourself and get out of low vibrational states. 5th dimensional consciousness is a choice. Remember to do everything you love and what your passion about. It becomes easier to love someone when you’re on the high vibration state.

Life is a lot easier when you think and feel with love.

Thoughts, beliefs, emotions are creating your reality.

As above so below...

I was fighting between the good and bad, but now I’ve realised that my everything in the outside in a reflection from the inside. All my thoughts are an extension of myself. I’ve been focusing a lot of my heart at the moment, been healing it. I’ve realised using it, is much more effective when it comes to healing.

Breathing as well and kundalini meditation is something I’ve been focusing on also. Every time I breath and hold my breathe, I can feel the air flow through my body and then I imagine that the air opening each chakra vortex. Something I’ve been learning to heal myself.

Accept the 3d reality, be patience with it. Never lower your frequency to fear, grief or shame. Stop apologising. Hold, listen and feel your heart and just appreciate and feel the best to feel that love within.

Complete the past, than you won’t longer have to repeat the cycle

—————////————————————————

[onestowatch]

Jez Dior Wants to Be for Others What Eminem Was for Him [Q&A]

Growing up, you’re constantly finding those idols to look up to. Someone you want to be like, someone you resonate with. Whether it’s a parent, athlete, actor, musician, you have that person you aspire to be. For Jez Dior, it was artists like Eminem and 50 Cent who let him know he wasn’t alone. Now, Jez is on a life mission to pay it forward to fans who are going through similar struggles he was living through not too long ago and evidently still dealing with today.

With over 50 million streams to date, Jez Dior is using his platform to spread a hopeful message. Jez touches the hearts of millions of fans daily delivering the simple yet necessary moral that you’re not alone. His music as a therapeutic outlet to channel through, a shoulder to lean on during your time of need and despondency.

Jez recently released his debut full-length album Handle With Care earlier this fall. The album touches on losing loved ones, life struggles, and heartbreak. We were able to sit down with Jez and get to know why he creates music that resonates with so many.

Ones to Watch: Who is Jez Dior? Take us back to the beginning.

Jez Dior: I started making music around 11 or 12. I basically would go in my mom’s car and record on this little, tiny voice recorder, saying raps that I had written when I was super young. I was just, like, obsessed with Eminem and 50 Cent at the time and wanted to do everything they were doing. I started writing music around that time, and ever since then, it just became an obsession of mine. That really grew me into the artist I am today.

Do you remember the first song you ever wrote?

No, but my mom has a bunch of lyrics of mine that I used to write. I used to write them on white computer paper, and I just never threw them away. I used to literally write as if I was in G-Unit and like some gangster from New York shit, like from Jamaica, Queens. I used to just emulate what 50 Cent and Lloyd Banks were talking about. it’s very embarrassing to read that, but it’s hilarious.

That is gold. Tell us a bit about your musical journey thus far.

J: I’ve always been innovative when it comes to music. I use music as a form of therapy; it really helps me get my feelings out. I’ve always been super personal when it comes to writing, and I haven’t been scared to show that side of me to the world. Early on, I would write a lot about when my dad left. My dad left when I started writing around 11 or 12. So, the content on my earlier projects sort of kept going in that direction and are a lot darker I’d say. It was a much darker time in my life when I first started actually putting out music. 

With that being said, I think people were really able to relate to the content of the songs. That’s what really kick-started my career. I was just putting out music and talking about things I was going through, and in turn, I think people were going through or had been going through, similar things throughout their life. I think I was able to build a core fanbase off of those earlier projects. A lot of those kids still ride with me ‘til this day. Fast forward to today, things are a lot different, being with a label and having multiple people on your team. It’s just been an ever-changing story, and one that’s still developing, you know?

Definitely. What would you say is the biggest self-realization you’ve had during your career? 

I’m sort of an anxious person. Growing up, I was always pretty timid. When it comes to music, I’ve found this fearless side of myself. I’ve always been very honest in my music. So, throughout my career, when it comes to my art and making music, I’ve always just been careless. There’s really nothing about myself that I’m scared to showcase or provide to my fans.

How does it feel to know your music has impacted so many people?

It’s honestly still crazy to me to this day. Since my music has such a personal tone to it, I’ve been getting so many messages from kids all over the world throughout my whole career, but it still blows my mind to this day. I was at dinner with my homie, and this person named their cat after me. I get messages of people who got “Funeral Crew” tattooed, which is what my fans call themselves. Or just that my music has saved their life. Everytime I get a little message like that from anyone about anything, it still is mind-blowing. Just to see the words that I write and record reach the distances that they do is just mind-blowing, and quite frankly the reason I keep making music.

That’s amazing man! I can only imagine how it must feel to have someone look up to you as a hero. It must be such a rewarding feeling.

Yeah, I mean, that’s what I define success as. If it is just one person reaching out to me saying I saved their life, that alone is success to me. But the fact that I literally get messages every single day while I check my DM requests on Instagram, it’s just like paragraphs on paragraphs about how and why my music means so much to them. It’s really really cool and humbling.

Take me through your writing and recording process. 

It all starts with production. So, that just depends on who I’m working with that given day. For a long time, and my first couple of EPs, I worked with one dude. His name is Danny Score; he did all my earlier stuff. So our process was kind of just like, you know, we’d have a conversation about what’s going on in my head and where I’m at. Like I said, it’s always been a form of therapy for me, and my music has always been real to what I’m going through at any given time. From there, we’d always pick up a guitar and I’d tell him what I like and don’t like. That’s really where I learned how to form a song, just working with him.

I carry that same vibe with me today when I’m in the studio. I don’t play any instruments, but I’m always very hands-on. It’s always different depending on who I’m working with, but I do work with mostly people who know me well on a personal level still. My dude Chris Wallace, Rome from Sublime, and Matt Radosevich are all close friends of mine and did my whole first album. 

Walk me through the process of your debut album, Handle With Care, and where did the name come from?

J: Yeah so, I came up with the name because the album to me is basically myself wrapped up in to a very fragile package, you know? I start the album off talking about suicide that has happened within my family, my mom’s depression, my dad’s drug abuse, and how it affected my little sister. There’s been overdoses in my family; My uncle passed away in my bedroom, in my bed when I was younger. Just all of the shit that I’ve been through in my life, I really take head-on in the album, so I just came up with the name because I really feel like I want people to handle it with care. 

As for the process, it was really just a lot of conversations discussing what I want to talk about, how far I want to go with the stories that I feel like need to be heard. It was a lot of that before the recording process started, and that continued on throughout. But yeah, it was just a super personal album. I think we have some hits on there. We got some sad songs. I think there’s something for everybody. I couldn’t be more happy with the way it came out.

I’m a huge fan of the album, specifically your song “Please Don’t Go.” I really resonate with it on a personal level. Can you tell me a bit about that song and why it was the first single released off the album?

Thanks man, that means a lot. You know it’s funny, I think I’m guilty of the thing that a lot of artists are guilty of, and it’s your new song is always your favorite. That was the last song I recorded for the album, and also the song that was resonating with me at the time of my ex and I breaking up prior to writing and recording that song. I felt like I needed to get that song out for my own healing. I also just really love the song. Chris Wallace and I spent a couple of days working on it and it was the last song we submitted for the album. I don’t know; I really love that song. Not only you, but a lot of people can connect with that song.

No doubt. What’s the overall message you want to get across to your fanbase?

J: Just that you’re not alone. There are so many times that I’ve felt that I’m alone in my feelings and that I don’t have anywhere to turn or go to. I just want my fans to know that they’re definitely not alone and things do get better. That’s why I try to go so deep, honest, and really dive deep down to get to what I’m feeling when I’m making music. That’s basically what Eminem did for me. I could relate to him so much when I was younger, he made me feel like I wasn’t alone with what I was going through. I want to be able to give back and give these kids the same sort of feeling. There are people out there going through the same thing they’re going through. Things do get better. There’s always a light at the end of the tunnel.

[ladylynse]

The Trouble with Ghosts (Part II): Lancer hadn’t realized how closely young Mr. Fenton’s school troubles–and the secrets he surely wasn’t telling his parents–were tied to ghosts until after that encounter with Phantom. 

<<  <  Part II  >  

Running hurt. A lot. And it reminded Danny that he didn’t have a lot of energy right now. He didn’t make it very far. No invisibility, no intangibility, no healing powers…. He considered himself lucky that he’d gotten into an as of yet unlocked classroom—in this case, the chemistry lab. It had been hard pulling off the ‘I’m not hurt as badly as you think I am’ act with Mr. Lancer, and he appreciated his concern, he really did, but he needed help from someone who knew the whole story.

He didn’t know what Valerie had hit him with, but if he had to guess, he’d say it was related to the Plasmius Maximus. With any luck, it would wear off in three hours. With his luck, it probably wouldn’t.

“Running was a bad idea,” Danny groaned, clutching the edges of a desk in the first row to steady himself. The room refused to stop spinning, and he was pretty sure he’d cracked at least one rib. He was also pretty sure that, however many times he’d gotten thrown into things and cut up and just generally beaten up, with or without breaking a few bones in the process, this hurt the worst. “Ow….”

Danny sunk to the floor. The classroom wasn’t safe. At the very least, he needed to get away from the door. But it was a slow crawl to the back of the lab, even as he eyed the built-in tables and cupboards that were his goal. He might be able to shift around the Bunsen burners and hide in one of the cupboards….

Danny made it about a quarter of the way to the back before stopping and glancing back. The gauze taped onto his side had soaked through and was threatening to fall off—and if the damp feeling on his head was anything to go by, the same was true of that bandage—and he could see a slight green sheen on the floor from the smears that had come off of his clothes. Off of him.

No point in hiding when he’d be leaving a trail that led straight to him anyway.

“I can’t stay here like this,” Danny whispered.

Ow, ow, ow. How come breathing had to hurt so much? Ghost mode or not, the quick, shallow breaths he was taking weren’t enough.

Okay, he had to think this through. No powers in ghost mode. No easy escape if he needed one. Lancer was right; he was a sitting duck waiting so patiently for the hunter to come along and destroy him. And that…would be very bad.

Maybe, if he changed back to Fenton, his parents would patch him up? That would invite a million questions, but he might be able to talk his way out of a hospital visit if he was careful. He could be sort of honest with them, after all. He could say that he was beaten up. He could pretend it was solely the work of a ghost. It shouldn’t be that much of a stretch for them to believe that he could be targeted, and they’d be much more inclined to care for him at home if they suspected he might have been exposed to some ecto-disease in the process.

It wasn’t a great option, especially since it depended heavily on Jazz screening out any suspicious results they might find from some of their tests, but it was better than being found now as Phantom. After all, without his powers, there was no guarantee that Sam, Tucker, or Jazz could sneak him out of here undetected.

“Please let this work,” Danny muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. He knew it had worked, that whatever had been done to him didn’t stop him from changing forms. He felt it. Aside from the normal feeling of slipping back into human form, there was a brief, miraculous, pain-free second.

And then the pain hit full force, easily feeling twice as bad as before.

“Bad idea,” Danny muttered as blood started seeping through his shirt. He’d thought the bandages would transfer when he shifted forms, but they hadn’t. He hadn’t put enough concentration into it to force them to. And now his shirt was sticking to his cut and when he moved, it burned. Add that to the aching, stabbing pains he felt about everywhere else, and he wasn’t in good condition by anyone’s standards.

Even his hair hurt.

Although, that imagined pain could be explained by the head wound that was starting to drip blood into his eyes….

He needed to get out of here.

“Just take it slowly and it’ll be fine,” Danny whispered, wiping the blood out of his eyes with his free hand. His other still clutched his side, blood seeping between his fingers. Shouldn’t it be clotting by now? The blood was running like the wounds were fresh. And the smell…. It didn’t normally bother him, but this time, when the scent of blood filled his nostrils and he could taste iron in his mouth and his hands were sticky with red….

What had he been hit with? Last he’d checked, Vlad didn’t actually want him dead. Just subservient and faithful and….

Okay, normally he’d say he’d rather be dead, but he’d almost rather be in that situation and plotting revenge against Vlad than actually gone, because then Vlad would be one step closer to his family and accomplishing his sick goals.

Using a desk as a crutch, he pulled himself up into the chair. The blood smeared across the desk surface, the chair seat, the metal bar connecting the two…. This would take some cleaning up. Maybe…. He’d have to call Jazz. He’d never hear the end of it from her, but Tucker didn’t do blood too well, not when it was like this, and Sam…. He couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the look on Sam’s face when she saw him like this. It had to be Jazz.

But his cell phone was in his locker.

Crud.

He wasn’t sure he could make it that far.

His head hurt so much….

Scratch that. Everything hurt. The pounding in his head just made it hard to think. And kinda hard to see. Swirls of black dots were swarming on the edge of his vision, creeping in closer with every second. It was moving rather quickly this time. Already his vision was black. Eyes wide open saw nothing, not even vague shadowy shapes. Not a good sign. Not when he needed to get out of here. Not when…when….

“The Chrysalids! Mr. Fenton!”

Mr. Lancer wasn’t sure what to think.

He’d thought, if Danny Phantom had been telling him the truth, that he wouldn’t be able to get far. That he truly needed help, despite his protests. So Lancer had done what he’d felt was the right thing: he’d gone after the boy.

Ghost or not, he was still a child. And when he was that beaten up, that worn down, he needed the help of an adult, however stubborn he acted. And Lancer was not one to refuse to give help to anyone who needed it.

So, he’d started checking the rooms in the school. He knew he’d arrived at the right one before opening it when he saw a green smear on the handle and a smudge vaguely recognizable as a handprint on the door. He’d been expecting to find Danny Phantom there, nursing his wounds while trying to figure out where to hide. He hadn’t been expecting to see Danny Fenton.

Even if he had, on some level, expected to find the boy who was supposed to be serving detention with him, he wouldn’t have expected to find him in the condition he was in. Bleeding, bruising, unconscious at a desk….

This was far beyond high school bullying. This…who would have done this to him? Who could have done this to him? Mr. Baxter had never struck him as someone who could….

He nearly slipped as he came closer and looked down to see a sickly green slime on the floor. Ectoplasm. Of course. Phantom had been here. But the only one here now was young Danny Fenton.

Lancer reached out slowly and shook him gently. “Mr. Fenton?”

Nothing.

“I need to get him to the hospital,” Lancer muttered, immediately reaching for his cell phone.

It wasn’t there. He’d dropped it, he now remembered, after the fight that had sent Phantom flying into his classroom. When he’d been about to phone the Fentons to tell them about Danny. But what could Danny have been—

“The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” Lancer breathed. “That’s what you’ve been up to.” He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before.

All the unexplained absences. The flimsy excuses. The incomplete homework and obviously sleepless nights. He should have seen it before.

Danny Fenton was hunting ghosts.

For a split second, Lancer couldn’t understand why Danny wouldn’t tell his parents. Surely they’d be proud of the boy. He knew as well as anyone that Jack Fenton, at the very least, tried to get both his children to hunt ghosts. Then again, he also knew Maddie Fenton. She was protective of her children. If Danny was doing this alone, it was easy to construe it as dangerous.

The reason why was right in front of him.

He knew Jack’s and Maddie’s opinion of Phantom, but from the state of the boy in front of him, he doubted Danny shared it.

He doubted Phantom could have done much in the state he was in, and Lancer was willing to bet his retirement fund on the fact that Danny Fenton would do everything he could to protect Danny Phantom. He clearly had—and paid the price.

“Lord of the Flies, Mr. Fenton,” Lancer murmured, his eyes lingering on the boy’s still-bleeding head wound. “How did this happen to you?”

The answer was obvious, of course. This was Amity Park. The majority of their troubles stemmed from one problem and one problem only: ghosts. Young Mr. Fenton was the child of ghost hunters, and if he had tried to hunt them on his own, if he had managed it for quite some time, he would have made himself into an ideal target.

The main target, this time, might have been Phantom, but if Danny fiercely believed that Phantom was doing what he was trying to do—protect people—then he would have defended him upon realizing that Phantom was unable to do so himself.

The other ghost—it had to be another ghost to get in and out of the classroom without disturbing anything—must have gone for Phantom, been attacked by Danny, retaliated in kind, grabbed Phantom, and left Danny in the sorry state he was in.

“Mr. Fenton?” Lancer tried again, tapping the boy sharply on his shoulder. “Danny?”

This time, he was rewarded with a faint groan.

“Danny, you’re hurt,” Lancer said. “Don’t try to move.”

“Mr. Lancer?” Danny mumbled, ignoring his teacher’s command and sitting up. “What are you…?” He trailed off, hissing. “Ow….”

“You’re hurt,” Lancer repeated. “Do you remember? You were hurt in a ghost fight.”

Instant fear, on the boy’s face and in his eyes. “What?” Then, “You know?” By this point, Danny had managed to marginally school his expression, but he still bore the look of one who had been caught out.

Mr. Lancer’s expression softened. “I know,” he said. “When the pieces were right in front of me, it wasn’t hard to figure out. Look, Danny, don’t move. I’m going to get some supplies from the nurse’s office, all right? We need to stop the bleeding.”

Danny glanced down at his stained hands. The next words he spoke were nearly too quiet to hear. “You won’t…tell, will you?”

“We need to stop the bleeding,” Lancer said, well aware that he was dodging the question. “You might be going into shock. Just hold on. I’ll be right back.”

Danny nodded mutely, and Lancer lost no time in making good on his word. Once he had Danny putting pressure on his wounds, he would phone the hospital and the Fentons. Not fifteen minutes earlier, he’d been happy that this wing was mostly unused for after school activities on this day of the week. Now, he would have been grateful to send someone else on those errands.

Even seeing the damage, he found it hard to believe that Danny Fenton was fighting ghosts. Oh, it would explain a few things—to begin with, his quick reflexes when he was awake—but the thought that Danny Fenton had worked so hard to keep this a secret…. Lancer couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth the cost.

This had been going on for a while. Lancer had no doubt about that. He was also very sure that Mr. Foley and Miss Manson were well aware of Mr. Fenton’s moonlighting. Danny must have miraculously escaped getting injured so badly before now or he was sure the silence would have been broken. Loyalty born of friendship, in his experience, didn’t extend to allowing one’s friend to nearly kill himself.

When Lancer returned with an armful of first aid supplies, Danny looked unfocused and bleary-eyed. He knew he had to act quickly and get him to the hospital. “Stay with me, Danny,” Lancer said. “You’re going to be fine.” He held out a wad of gauze. “Can you hold this to your head?”

Bloodied fingers accepted it. “You don’t have to do this, Mr. Lancer,” Danny mumbled. “I’m gonna be fine.���

“Of course you are,” Lancer said soothingly, setting out the rest of the supplies. The boy had various cuts and bruises, but the next worst injury beyond the questionable head wound was undoubtedly the cut on his side that he was instinctively clutching. The same side, Lancer noted absently, where Phantom had been hurt. One fight with a determined ghost, and poor Danny Fenton was already hurt more than the one he’d been trying to protect.

Once he was sure Danny would be able to do the rest himself, Lancer knew he needed to phone the boy’s parents. He shouldn’t have put it off for this long, really, but without another helping hand, he’d needed to stem the bleeding first. “I’m going to make a few phone calls and get you to the hospital, all right? Just keep pressure on your wounds.”

“Not the first time I’ve done this,” Danny muttered. “Don’t need to go to the hospital.”

“Nonsense, Mr. Fenton. You need stitches at the very least, and you may have a concussion. I’ll be as quick as I can. Just wait here.”

He heard a mumble from Danny, which Lancer took to be his agreement. He hated seeing one of his students in such horrific condition. He should have tried intervening earlier. He may not have been able to talk sense into the boy, gotten him to stop risking his life, but he may have been able to get Danny to be more cautious. To remember that, teenager or not, he was not invincible. Now….

It might be too late now.

The office had the closest phone. He’d inform the Fentons that he was taking Danny to the hospital, that they should meet him there. That he’d explain when they arrived. That he would do everything in his power to make sure that Danny was all right. That Danny would come through this.

“Hello?”

Jazz. Oh, he’d hoped that she wouldn’t be the one to answer the phone. He’d been hoping to get Maddie. She, he felt, would be able to keep a more level head in this situation. When it came to Danny, Jazz had always been more prone to panic. “Jasmine, it’s Mr. Lancer,” he said slowly. “It’s about your brother.”

Silence for a second, then, “Do you want me to get Mom? She and Dad are just in the lab.”

“That won’t be necessary, Miss Fenton. Just…. Please inform them that I am taking Danny to the hospital. I’d like them to meet me there.”

“The hospital?” Jazz squeaked. “What happened?”

“I’ll explain what I know when I see you. Please, Jazz.”

“I…. Of course. I’ll tell Mom and Dad. We’ll be there.”

The line went dead, and Lancer hung up the phone. He dreaded having to make calls like that. It was not an aspect of the job he liked, but this was a school and, moreover, it was a school which saw near-daily ghost attacks. Injuries were to be expected.

Injuries beyond their capabilities at the nurse’s office, however….

Mr. Lancer sighed. If he had been able to convince Danny to open up to him earlier today, he might have been able to prevent this. Point out that there were other able ghost hunters. That there was no need for his show of anonymous heroism. That his parents would be overjoyed that he was taking an interest in their work and that he shouldn’t be doing this prior to proper tutoring with them. That he didn’t need to do this to prove his worth.

“I’m going to take you to the hospital now, Danny,” Lancer said as he entered the classroom. “Just try to—” He broke off, the rest of his sentence—keep pressure on your wounds—dying on his lips.

Danny Fenton was gone.

All that remained of him now was a staggered trail of blood, a smear of red across a few of the desks, and the slowly drying stain on the door.

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