#girl i dont remember SSHSHS

[dannyphannypack]

For those of you that are interested in this Merlin/Danny Phantom crossover escapade I’m embarking on, I’ve made a little teaser to tide myself over until the outline is finished. Enjoy.

Danny groaned as he came to. The bed that he lay on was altogether too hard, and the room that he was in was warm and musty. He tried to open his eyes and shut them immediately; the room was too bright. As he became more and more aware of himself, he realized that his head was pulsing - specifically in his left temple. He reached up to touch the accusing area and drew back when he felt cloth. A bandage?

“Gaius,” an unfamiliar voice said, sounding nervous. “He’s awake.”

“Surely not,” an older, deeper voice answered. “That sleeping draught I gave him should keep him under until dawn, at least.”

Danny froze as he considered these voices. There was something deep within him, urging him to flee. He didn’t know these people! He didn’t know where he was or why he was there. He certainly wasn’t where he should be, which was …

The side of Danny’s head awakened with new pain, this one sharp versus the dull throbs he’d felt earlier. He groaned again, louder this time.

“I’ll say,” the older voice murmured. He could see through his eyelids that the light around him was brightening significantly, so he flinched away and flung an arm over his head. Ouch.

“Young man.” The voice was directly above him now, hammering into his eardrums.

“Quieter,” he croaked. “Too loud.”

There was a long pause before the first voice once again spoke. “What’s your name?”

“Merlin,” the other voice chastised in a harsh whisper. To Danny, it still felt like shouting.

“My head hurts,” Danny whined, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes and rubbing harshly.

Something cold and circular was pressed again his lips. “Drink,” the second voice commanded.

“No.” Danny pulled away and instantly felt sick. He opened his eyes but for a second, scanning the blurry area frantically. He found the edge of his bed, so he leaned over and promptly vomited onto the floor.

“Yuck,” the younger one said, drawing back.

Danny leaned back down onto his pillow, finding comfort in the previously-uncomfortable bed. He felt a towel wipe his lips but could only mumble in complaint. “Drink,” the voice commanded again, so he drank. Almost instantly, Danny fell back into a dark, dreamless sleep.

When Danny awoke again, the room was much brighter. As before, he signified that he was awake with another groan of discomfort. Heavy footsteps and the clink of glass on glass drove him to open his eyes, if only to squint.

“Here.” It was the same, older voice from earlier. He was handed a cup.

“What is it?” Danny asked, instantly wary.

“Water,” the voice responded. “Drink.”

He drank.

“Do you know where you are?”

Danny opened his eyes the rest of the way and sat up a bit more in his bed. To the side of him was a man, maybe in his sixties, with shoulder length white hair and an inquisitive eyebrow that rose above the other. Behind the man was a room covered wall to wall in things. Cups, bowls, vials, books. There was also a wooden table that had plants lying in a line, each separated by little bows of twine wrapped around the stems.

Danny shook his head slowly. His head still throbbed, but it remained dull and manageable.

“Do you know who you are?”

Danny almost snorted. What a silly question. Of course he knew who he was! Nevertheless, when he opened his mouth to answer, he couldn’t find the words.

“Um,” he said, and his headache pulsed faster.

“Are you Danny Fenton?”

Danny blinked slowly. Was he?

“Yes,” he lied, gulping. Apparently his face betrayed his words, because the older man’s eyebrow rose in disbelief.

Nevertheless, the older man heaved a great sigh and reached down beside him, pulling up a purple bag and unzipping the front. From it he pulled out a single crumpled piece of paper, unfolded it, and pointed at the top.

Name: Danny Fenton.

Date: Oct. 14, 2004.

Danny stared at it for a long time, so the man handed it to him and continued. “Is this yours?”

“Um, yeah,” he lied again, glancing over the contents, because what kind of person didn’t know his own name?

“Tell the truth.”

Danny stammered over his next words. “I-I don’t know.” His eyes widened. “Oh, my God, I don’t know.” Suddenly, as though he were thinking too hard and his brain wished to punish him for it, his temple lit up in pain. He squeezed his eyes shut and visibly winced.

“Alright, alright, easy,” the man said with a placating gesture, setting the bag down. “My name is Gaius.”

“Gaius,” Danny repeated, massaging his head.

“Correct,” Gaius affirmed.

The door behind Gaius squeaked open, prompting them both to turn and look. A tall, lanky boy with short hair and dark bangs stepped out, looking down at the basket in his hands. “I got the turmeric,” he called. “For the concussion.”

His eyes met Danny’s and they widened into almost perfect circles. “He’s awake?” he asked, voice meek.

Gaius turned back to Danny. “That is Merlin,” He stated, as though the name was hard to grasp. “Mer-lin.”

“I know how to pronounce Merlin,” Danny all but snapped.

He was ignored, for the most part. “Did you ask him if he’s from the future?” Merlin queried, setting the basket down on a bench beside the table.

“From the what?”

“Shhhh!” Gaius hissed. “Really, Merlin, have you no self control?”

“You haven’t?” Merlin raised his eyebrow, rivaling the look Gaius gave Danny when he claimed that he knew his name.

Gaius glanced back at Danny concernedly before he stood and took the basket off the bench beside Merlin. “He’s lost his memory,” Gaius whispered, even though Danny was all of five feet away.

Merlin blinked. “Everything?”

“I think.”

Danny scoffed. “I haven’t lost everything,” he argued. “I remember, um …” He glanced around the room desperately, searching for a memory that wasn’t there. His head hurt the longer he though about it. “I remember that this is a bed!” He shouted triumphantly in a fake show of confidence, pointing at the thing he was laying on.

Merlin hit himself in the forehead, looking defeated. “Of course he’s lost his memory,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. “Of course. Nothing can be easy, can it?”

Gaius moved to pat Merlin on the back and shook his head in solemn agreement. “Lord, help us.”