#he took Danny's appearance as a confirmation that he was dead

[nelkcats]

The Return of the Speedster

Years had passed since Wally's death. Years since the Young Justice team had split up because of it, none of them could move on, as much as they liked to pretend about it, Nightwing was the one who had taken it the worst.

While the years passed on the hero's dimension, Danny was exploring Clockwork's haunt in the Infinite Realms, something that took him a long time as his mentor was hard to convince; while he was at it he found something strange. Clocky had told him it was the "Speedforce" although the halfa had no idea what that meant. He frowned wanting to explore it but his mentor stopped him every time, telling him it wasn't safe.

Unfortunately that wasn't enough to stop the teenager, who slipped into the crack in time. Danny was quite lucky, as the watch that had merged with him long ago from the "Dark Dan" incident had left him somewhat immune to the effects the site had, not that he knew it.

When he stepped inside, all he saw was an incomprehensible place. Since he wasn't seeing something interesting he was about to leave when he noticed a boy in a weird suit running. He raised an eyebrow in confusion, didn't Clocky tell him the place was off limits?

The boy noticed him too and explained in panic that the place was dangerous and could kill him. To which Danny rolled his eyes.

"I don't think you can kill something dead" he scoffed showing his ghostly tail. The boy didn't take that revelation very well, as he started muttering about being dead and in the afterlife. Danny, seeing that the boy had gotten distracted and stopped running, pulled him out of the place and guided him towards Clockwork's haunt. He had to ask his mentor about the weird kid and the best way was well, kidnap him from the strange place.

Both ghosts watched the speedster (Wally?) continue to mumble about having passed into the afterlife while having an existential crisis on the couch. Danny was tempted to tell him he was alive and everything was a misunderstanding but he had to get information first. And maybe get him back home if it was all a mistake.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Damian attacks an intruder in the Batcave only for the teen to dodge every blow and try talking him down. He claims that someone said he might be related to Batman and he wanted answers about his biological parents.

This does not help at all considering this would mean Damian is not the only blood son and he calls him a liar. Baby Bat realized the glowing teen was protective over the rolled up scroll he was holding and he demanded to know what it was.

Seeing the fight pause Phantom thought this was his shot to get Robin to calm down and stop attacking him and so he explained this was the Infi-map, a artifact that could take the user wherever they wanted to go with no limitations. Damian quickly grabbed the map and they begin struggling over it. While they were both holding it Damian got an idea, "Fine! We'll take the map to our grandfather and he will confirm whether or not what you're saying is true!" And the map began to glow. Oddly enough it spat out a glowing purple door which opened and sucked them in before closing behind them and disappearing.

Instead of landing in front of Ras Al Ghul like Damian had planned they intead landed in...the batcave? That couldn't be right. It took only a moment to realize something was very wrong. The numerous "trophies" his father and siblings had acquired were nowhere in sight, instead the decor was different.

"Who are you?"

Startled, the boys hopped into battle positions and prepared to face down...Batman??? What? But Damian knew it wasn't Batman. What little he could see of the face was wrong. So was the height and build, it was similar but not enough to fool him. Phantom wasn't so lucky and just asked the imposter if he was his dad.

Well, a fight breaks out after an argument where the man declared that Bruce and Martha were dead and it clicked for Phantom. "Oh snap. Robin, when you grabbed the map you told it to take it to "our" grandfather. We don't share a mother, only a father." All he know about his mom was that she gave me up for adoption and died a few years later.

"Thats not possible, my fathers parents are dead."

Danny chose to ignore the venom in the other boys words, "Its called the Infi-map because it grants access to the Infinite Realms. It can take you anywhere or anytime you want to go, this includes dimensions, realities, alternate universes, a combination of all the above with time travel sprinked on top, you name it."

Robin was silent. The man was appearently Thomas Wayne, thier alternate reality grandpa.

[twoidiotwriters1]

The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: The House of Hades chapters were massively fun to write, I hope you love them -Danny Words: 2,237 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

XXVII: I'm in My Critical-Thinking Era

Today is Ara's 15th birthday, according to the magical screens surrounding the room: The beach has remains of a party. The fireworks show must've happened while they were fighting the rock giants or while she was sleeping.

Leo glances at the screen, then freezes and takes a second look. "Hey—!"

She drags him out of the room. "Don't say anything to them!"

The boy scowls. "What? Why not?"

"This is the worst timing possible," Ara's expression is horror-struck and pale. "Do you think I'm in the mood to celebrate?"

The boy blushes. "But pretending it's not an important date..."

"In the future..." Ara trails off. There is no future. If they're lucky they have a few weeks at most. "Listen, just forget it."

Leo glances at the screens and makes a face. "You shouldn't be spending it like this."

"Don't start," she groans, turning away to enter the mess hall, but Leo stops her.

"You should be in camp with Lily. Or with your parents—"

"And what difference does it make if I'm here or there? My family would be incomplete, the Romans would be all around camp..." she huffs, pushing his hand away. "There's no way I would've enjoyed my birthday this year. Let it go."

Leo stares at her, struggling to find the words. "If... If we'd met sooner, I would've thrown huge parties for you. A whole week of 'em."

Ara wants to cry at his words, but she thinks this is a worthy trade at the very least. She saves the world, therefore she only gets shitty birthdays. Whatever. She got to have three birthday parties throughout her entire life, it's not like she's suffering a major loss.

Leo was supposed to find her last December, it had to happen that way, otherwise, she wouldn't've taken the role of daughter of Olympus, and her prophecy is their only hope to break the curse...

Mike wouldn't've died. Janus whispers mockingly. Is one life worthier than the other?

She cups his face. "Having you around is enough. Besides, your birthday is also in two days, we can celebrate then if you want."

"I communed with the dead last night. I was able to learn more about what we'll face," Nico says as they eat breakfast. "In ancient times, the House of Hades was a major site for Greek pilgrims. They would come to speak with the dead and honor their ancestors."

"Sounds like Día de los Muertos," Leo mentions. "My Aunt Rosa took that stuff seriously."

"Chinese have that, too," Frank adds. "Ancestor worship, sweeping the graves in the springtime. Your Aunt Rosa would've gotten along with my grandmother."

"Yeah," Leo mutters. "I'm sure they would've been best buds."

"A lot of cultures have seasonal traditions to honor the dead," Nico agrees. "But the House of Hades was open year-round. Pilgrims could actually speak to the ghosts. In Greek, the place was called the Necromanteion, the Oracle of Death. You'd work your way through different levels of tunnels, leaving offerings and drinking special potions—"

"Special potions," Leo mumbles. "Yum."

Jason flashes a warning look at him, he doesn't want him to upset Nico because then he will tease Ara in turn. "Nico, go on," the boy says politely.

"The pilgrims believed that each level of the temple brought you closer to the Underworld, until the dead would appear before you. If they were pleased with your offerings, they would answer your questions, maybe even tell you the future."

"And if the spirits weren't pleased?" Frank asks.

"Some pilgrims found nothing," Nico shrugs. "Some went insane, or died after leaving the temple. Others lost their way in the tunnels and were never seen again."

"You always know the hottest spots to visit," Ara jokes.

"Right up your alley, desperate sacrifices just to get crumbs. Anyway, the ghost I spoke to last night, he was a former priest of Hecate. He confirmed what the goddess told Hazel yesterday at the crossroads. In the first war with the giants, Hecate fought for the gods. She slew one of the giants—one who'd been designed as the anti-Hecate. A guy named Clytius."

"Dark dude," Leo says. "Wrapped in shadows." 

"Leo, how did you know that?" Hazel questions.

"Kind of had a dream," Leo explains his nightmares to the group and Ara leans forward on the table rubbing her forehead.

"So the giant is Clytius," Jason concludes. "I suppose he'll be waiting for us, guarding the Doors of Death."

"And the woman in Leo's dream?" Frank inquires.

"She's my problem." Hazel says. "Hecate mentioned a formidable enemy in the House of Hades —a witch who couldn't be defeated except by me, using magic."

"Do you know magic?" Leo asks

"Not yet."

"Ah. Any idea who she is?"

"Only that..." There is a brief pause and Ara looks up to see Nico and Hazel sharing a look, then the girl speaks. "Only that she won't be easy to defeat."

Ara remembers what Leo told her: Maze. Magic. A woman. It's not that hard to connect the dots, and she hates how quickly she understands what they'll be facing, part of her hopes to be dead wrong, but it's unlikely.

"But there is some good news," Nico says. "The ghost I talked to explained how Hecate defeated Clytius in the first war. She used her torches to set his hair on fire. He burned to death. In other words, fire is his weakness."

"Oh," Leo sits up. "Okay."

Ara shifts uncomfortably in her seat, nothing is as easy as it sounds, but she doesn't want to say it. Athena's blessing is working within her, she knows at last how it feels to be Annabeth and Lily, her brain constantly seeking info to make plans.

"Leo's fire isn't the same kind of magical as Hecate's. But I could try and teach you to control the mist," she offers to Hazel, and the girl blushes at Ara's offer. They haven't interacted a lot, so it's still a bit awkward between them. "I'm not a sorceress, but it's got to be worth something, right?"

"It's worth a try," Jason agrees. "At least we know how to kill the giant. And this sorceress... well, if Hecate believes Hazel can defeat her, then so do I."

Hazel sighs. "Now we just have to reach the House of Hades, battle our way through Gaea's forces—"

"Plus a bunch of ghosts," Nico adds. "The spirits in that temple may not be friendly."

"—and find the Doors of Death. Assuming we can somehow arrive at the same time as Percy and Annabeth and rescue them."

"We can do it," Frank tries to encourage them. "We have to."

"Well, that depends on how long it'll take us to get there," Ara turns to Leo.

"So, with this detour," he voices, "I'm estimating four or five days to arrive at Epirus, assuming no delays for, you know, monster attacks and stuff."

"Yeah. Those never happen." Jason says sarcastically.

"Hecate told you that Gaea was planning her big Wake Up party on August first, right?" Leo turns to Hazel. "The Feast of Whatever?"

"Spes. The goddess of hope."

"Theoretically, this leaves us enough time," Jason interjects. "It's only July fifth."

As expected, Nico's gaze locks with hers and he opens his mouth slightly, tilting his head as if about to ask something. Ara's eyes widen and she shakes her head discretely but making it clear that he has to stay quiet.

"...We should be able to close the Doors of Death, then find the giants' HQ and stop them from waking Gaea before August first," Jason finishes.

"Theoretically," Hazel nods. "But I'd still like to know how we make our way through the House of Hades without going insane or dying."

"Well, that's Nico's job," Ara points out. "You're the Ghost King, right?"

Nico scowls, but Frank pushes his plate away with a look of discomfort and speaks before the younger boy can. "It's July fifth. Oh, jeez, I hadn't even thought of that...."

"Hey, man, it's cool," Leo replies. "You're Canadian, right? I didn't expect you to get me an Independence Day present or anything... unless you wanted to."

"It's not that. My grandmother... she always told me that seven was an unlucky number. It was a ghost number. She didn't like it when I told her there would be seven demigods on our quest. And July is the seventh month."

"Yeah, but..." Leo taps his fingers on the table anxiously, the morse code for I love you on repeat. He doesn't seem to notice. "But that's just coincidence, right?"

"Back in China," Frank continues, "in the old days, people called the seventh month the ghost month. That's when the spirit world and the human world were closest. The living and the dead could go back and forth. Tell me it's a coincidence we're searching for the Doors of Death during the ghost month."

"Man, shut up," Ara doesn't like the idea of her birth month being an unlucky one, especially because Leo's birthday is on the seventh day, and Jason's...

Ara looks at him. Jason's birthday! It was the same day they lost Percy and Annabeth... Jason doesn't even flinch at Frank's speech, he keeps it together like a true Roman, but still, Ara feels guilty. 

"Let's focus on the things we can deal with. We're getting close to Bologna. Maybe we'll get more answers once we find these dwarfs that Hecate—"

The Argo II stops violently and they get tossed in different directions. Ara hits her ribs on the edge of the table and looks around not understanding what's happening.

"Nico!" Hazel gasps when he collapses against a wall.

"Look!" Jason pointed at the images of Camp Half-Blood.

Except it is no longer Camp Half-Blood. In its place, all she sees is chubby messed-up faces standing too close to the cameras. They flicker again and show the deck, where Piper and Hedge are gagged and unable to move.

Ara holds onto the wall and seizes Almighty. "What are those?"

As they watch the two little creatures bounce around stealing stuff, one of them snatches the Archimedes sphere out of its place, which sets Leo off. "No!"

"Piper!" Jason exclaims as he gets out from under the table.

"Monkey!" Frank shouts in alarm.

"Not monkeys," Hazel helps Nico up. "I think those are dwarfs—" 

"Stealing my stuff!" Leo rushes out of the room.

Ara Jackson is a girl with a short fuse.

It's carefully hidden, though, which means not many things can trigger it. But Dwarfs breaking the things she's been looking after since they left home? That's definitely a way to get her murderous mode on.

She watches them jump from one place to another and realizes she can't beat them with brute force. These beings are faster than she ever was, and by the looks of it, are professional bandits. Even Connor and Travis wouldn't stand a chance.

"Duck!" Leo tackles her by the waist before a grenade hits her.

Ara groans and tries to push Leo off, but she can't. "You left those on deck?!"

"Sorry I didn't think of the possibility of dwarfs setting them off!" Leo complains, unable to move.

Ara can't function properly, the dwarfs used the grenades Leo made for her (he was trying to cheer her up after what had happened at the Fort). They were filled with Apollo's magic, some liquid booming melodies that were meant to disorient and stun.

Ara crawls to a sitting position just in time to see a dwarf run away with Leo's belt... and Almighty. They reach a ballista and one of the dwarves shoots the other out of the ship, then the one left walks towards the rail, hits Coach Hedge, and jumps out of sight mockingly waving goodbye to Ara and Leo.

"Those horrid sons of—"

"Come on," Leo stumbles to his feet, his eyes red and glossy.

Leo and Jason pick her off the ground and Ara stays still trying to get rid of the dizziness. Gorilla!Frank is out-cold, tongue out.

"Piper!" Jason stumbles over to his girlfriend.

"Don't waste your time on me!" The girl complains when he pulls out the gag from her mouth. "Go after them!"

Ara makes her way to the control board and discovers with horror that the dwarves also took her Octopi. She turns to Leo, understanding in their gazes as they fall to the same conclusion: Those dipshits have to pay.

Leo turns to Jason. "You feeling good enough to control the winds? Ara and I need a lift."

"Sure, but—"

"Good," Leo interrupts him. "We've got some monkey dudes to catch." 

Ara's fingertips are burning with the need to strangle the living garden gnomes. "My plushie bags are off-limits," she says gravely. "They're going down."

"Where to?" Jason asks once they are in the middle of the small town.

Leo frowns. "Well, I dunno. Let me pull my dwarf-tracking GPS out of my tool belt... Oh, wait! I don't have a dwarf-tracking GPS—or my tool belt!"

"Be nice," Ara palms her pocket and with relief finds Almighty has come back to her. "Jason's trying to help."

"Thank you," says the boy, though also looking angry. Piper being mistreated isn't something that he lets slide. "The ballista fired the first dwarf in that direction, I think. Come on."

Ara thinks about Lily again. Her family was from Italy, and she'd always dreamed about coming here, to get acquainted with her roots, demigod and mortal. But Lily is stuck at camp fighting a war she didn't start and Ara's here, and if she fails, there might not be an Italy to visit in the future. 

Now that she's as old as Mike was when he died, Ara wonders which friend is going to die this time, the one who's been forced to stay behind and grow older, or the one that's running forward and still playing pretend.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh

[laxyaklovesloz]

DannyMay 2024 #31 Free Day

[Knowledge of Pendragon or Danny Phantom is optional. (I never knew I would write this crossover…)]

Journal #1 - Denduron

I hope you’re reading this, Tucker and Sam. Heck, I hope anyone’s reading this because that means I’m not a total nutjob. I only hope writing this down will help me understand some of what happened and will prove that I’m not crazy.

You see, two things happened recently that changed my life forever. The first, you’ll remember, was that I got freaking ghost powers. The second was that I got jacked across the universe in a wormhole called a flume.

I’ll talk about the portal accident first. Mom and Dad had been working on a portal to the Ghost Zone for ages. When they finally plugged it in, it didn’t work, so they gave up and left to do who knows what. That’s when we came in. Sam convinced me to put on a jumpsuit and go into the portal. For some reason, the “on” switch was on the inside and I accidentally hit it. The portal turned on, zapped me with ecto-radiation, and I came tumbling out the other side, many agonizing seconds later.

You guys saw. I was changed. My black hair turned white, my blue eyes turned green and glowed, and the black and white of the jumpsuit inverted to white and black. I’m pretty sure I passed out for a moment because you were there, helping me wake up.

“Danny, Danny?” Sam called. She lightly patted my face.

“Sam, I think he’s–” Tucker started.

I groaned and sat up, holding my head. “What happened?”

Sam and Tucker looked at each other. “The portal turned on,” Sam said quietly.

I looked at my hands. I was still wearing the jumpsuit, which I quickly took off. As I did so, I looked in the mirror. My appearance was back to normal.

“Did I look… different… to you?” I asked hesitantly.

Sam looked away and Tucker answered, ���Yeah, dude! You had white hair and glowing green eyes. It was like you were a ghost!”

“A ghost, huh?” I whispered, looking at my hands again. They seemed solid enough. I pinched my arm. It still hurt. “I’m not a ghost now.”

“No,” Tucker said. “You transformed when you passed out. Do you think you can do it again?”

“What?” I gawked. “How?”

“I dunno,” Tucker shrugged. “Just will it to happen, I guess?”

I thought about it for a second, then took a deep breath. I clenched my fists and said, “I’m going ghost!”

Two white rings appeared around my middle and moved up and down my body. As the rings passed over me, I felt… a change. I can’t quite describe it. It’s mostly a cold feeling. I looked down at myself and saw that I was wearing the inverted jumpsuit. Looking in the mirror confirmed that I had transformed.

“Sweet,” Tucker said.

“What do you think this means?” I asked.

Sam finally spoke up. “Nothing good.”

“What do you mean?” Tucker and I asked at the same time.

“If you’re a ghost,” Sam explained, “it means… it means you… you… technically… I guess… you died.”

I felt the rings appear and shift me back to my normal self. I staggered back, the weight of her words hitting me.

“But, I’m still here, I’m still breathing. I’m still alive,” I said slowly.

“Maybe he’s only half dead?” Tucker suggested, but he sounded small.

I shook my head, trying to clear it of unfriendly thoughts. “Doesn’t matter. I’m okay, Sam. Really, I am,” I added when she looked up at me. I thought she was on the verge of tears. “We’ll figure this out, together. Besides, what goth girl wouldn’t want a ghost as her best friend?”

That got a choked laugh out of Sam. She smiled at me, and I smiled back. Tucker looked between us and coughed.

“That’s all well and good,” he said, “but it’s almost curfew. Sam and I need to get home.”

“Right,” I said, slightly disappointed. “We’ll figure things out tomorrow.” Little did I know that tomorrow wouldn’t happen.

After Tucker and Sam left, there was a knock on the front door. Jazz was upstairs studying, and Mom and Dad were still awol, so I answered the door. My Uncle Press was standing there, holding a motorcycle helmet under his arm.

When he saw me, he thrust the helmet at me and said, “Hi, Danny. Come with me. I need your help.”

“But it’s curfew,” I protested.

Uncle Press turned around immediately and went to a fancy motorcycle sitting at the curb. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think it was more important than curfew.” When I didn’t follow he turned around and said, “Danny, you’ve known me all your life. Have you ever seen me like this?”

No, I hadn’t. He was acting strange. Normally he was a happy-go-lucky kind of guy. He’s the one who showed up at random times to give me the best birthdays. Remember that game of laser tag he set up? Yeah, that was him. Now he was almost… scared.

I shook my head and put on the helmet by way of answer. I was sure to lock the door on the way out. I probably should have told Jazz, but Uncle Press seemed to read my mind.

“Your family will understand,” he said mysteriously.

Okay… that was weird. I got onto the motorcycle behind him and we drove off.

We arrived thirty minutes later at an abandoned subway station. We got off the motorcycle and put our helmets on the seats. I was worried someone might steal the motorcycle. We were in a pretty shady area of town.

“What about the bike?” I asked Uncle Press.

“We don’t need it anymore,” he replied.

I shrugged and followed him into the subway station. Uncle Press had to remove boards to let us through.

“Is it okay for us to be here?” I questioned.

“Don’t worry so much, Danny,” Uncle Press answered. “This is where we’re meant to be.”

I sighed, figuring I wouldn’t get much more of an answer than that.

Inside the subway station was dark, so I had to wait for my eyes to adjust. The station had definitely seen better days. There was trash everywhere, and the benches were overturned. The glass of the ticket kiosk had been shattered.

Then I heard a rumbling noise. The station may be down, but the trains still ran. The bright light of the train illuminated the derelict surroundings for a long moment. After the train sped by, it was eerily silent.

I looked at Uncle Press, wondering what was our next step. He seemed on high alert. When did he go all rigid like that? He scanned the empty station.

“What?��� I asked him.

He started quickly down the stairs.

“Listen, Danny,” he said quickly as though he didn’t have much time. “If anything happens, I want you to know what to do.”

“Like what?” I asked with a strained voice.

“Everything will be fine if you know what to do. We’re not here to catch a train. We’re here because this is where the gate is.”

“Gate? What gate?”

“At the end of the platform are stairs that lead down to the tracks. About thirty yards down the track along the wall, there’s a door. It’s got a drawing on it, like a star.”

We were moving pretty fast through the station, heading for the far end. I had to dodge the pillars and upturned garbage cans to keep up.

“Are you with me?” Uncle Press asked sharply.

“Yeah,” I said skeptically. “But what’s this all about?”

“If we stop for me to explain everything, we may be too late,” Uncle Press replied. “The door is the gate. If for some reason I’m not with you, open the door, go inside, and say ‘Denduron.’”

“Denda-what?”

“Denduron! Say it!”

“Denduron, I got it. What is it, some kind of password?”

“It’ll get us where we’re going.”

Yeah, because that makes sense. Why couldn’t the word be “abrakadabra” or something equally stupid? What made “Denduron” such a special word?

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked nervously. “We’re going together, right?”

“That’s the plan, but if anything–”

“Stop right there!”

We whipped around to see a cop in a khaki uniform standing at the entrance of the station. Uh-oh, busted. For what, I wasn’t sure. Trespassing, probably.

“You boys wanna tell me what you’re doin’ down here?”

Part of me was relieved. I might finally get some answers. I turned to Uncle Press, expecting him to say something. Instead, he was staring the cop down. I could tell he was thinking hard about something. He wasn’t thinking of running, was he? The cop had a gun!

There was a long moment of silence, like a standoff. And then, somebody else joined the party.

“Can’t you leave me in peace?”

We all turned to see a homeless man stand out of what appeared to be a pile of garbage. Correction, he wasn’t homeless, we were in his home. I couldn’t tell what he looked like because he was a tangle of hair and tattered clothes. He spoke with a slurred speech.

“Peace is all I want. A little peace and quiet!”

Uncle Press looked quickly between the homeless guy and the cop, still calculating.

“I think you two better come with me,” the cop drawled.

I looked to Uncle Press. He didn’t move.

“...Castle. This is my castle. I want you all to–”

“What?” Uncle Press asked. “What do you want us to do?”

Then the platform started rumbling again. Another train was coming.

“I want you all to go away! Leave me alone!”

Uncle Press smiled for some reason. He turned to the cop and said, “You don’t know this territory, do you?”

What was that supposed to mean?

“You, I’m talking to you,” the homeless guy yelled to the cop, waving his arms. “I want you out of my castle.”

The cop didn’t turn his focus from Uncle Press. The two stared at each other like gunslingers waiting for the other to move first. Then the cop gave a small smile and asked, “What was your first clue?”

“The uniform. City cops in this territory wear blue, not khaki,” Uncle Press answered calmly. “I’m flattered though. You came yourself.”

The train was getting closer. Its horn blared, echoing in the station. The homeless guy was still going toward the cop… or whoever he was. It seemed Uncle Press knew him.

The homeless guy said, “That’s it, that’s it. If you don’t get out now, I’m gonna–”

He was cut off by a look from the cop. An icy, hard stare. One that chilled me to the bone. The homeless guy began to shake and looked like he wanted to flee but couldn’t move. He was locked in place by the cop’s gaze. He cried out, a horrible, anguished cry. Then he ran straight for the tracks, even though the train was right there.

“No, stop!” I shouted.

It was the most horrible sound that will haunt my dreams forever. I wanted to puke.

I turned to Uncle Press who had a pained look on his face that he wiped away quickly. In a dangerous voice, he said to the cop, “That was beneath you, Saint Dane.”

The cop – Saint Dane – shrugged and said, “Just wanted to give the boy a taste of what is in store for him.”

That didn’t sound good. Was he talking about me? A hard lump formed in my throat.

And then Saint Dane had his own transformation, but this one didn’t come with light rings. His body and clothes morphed into something else. He grew to about seven feet tall. His hair lengthened and turned gray. His skin turned as ghostly pale as mine had when I was in ghost form.

And his eyes. His eyes were a piercing ice blue that stared into my soul, pinning me to the spot.

Suddenly, Uncle Press pulled out an automatic gun from his trenchcoat with a practiced motion. He pushed me behind a bench and I was on my butt on the ground. He leaned in next to me. We were shielded from Saint Dane, but for how long?

More calmly than the situation called for, Uncle Press said one word, “Run.”

“What about you–?”

“Run!”

Uncle Press left the protection of the bench and started shooting at Saint Dane, who dove behind a pillar. I realized he was laying cover fire for me to get away, but I couldn’t just leave him!

I balled up my hands into fists. No way was I leaving someone I loved. Granted, I didn’t have a weapon to attack with, but I had a ghost form. That had to count for something.

“I’m going ghost!”

The rings lit up my hiding place and I transformed. I didn’t know what I could do as a ghost, but I had some ideas based on horror movies. Before leaving the safety of the bench, I practiced going intangible. That would be the most helpful against bullets.

“What are you doing? Run!” Uncle Press shouted. He dove behind the bench again and finally got a good look at me. “Danny, what–?”

“I’ll explain later,” I said, moving on to invisibility. “Let’s get this guy!”

I phased through the bench and propelled myself into the air. So far so good. I was invisible, so Saint Dane couldn’t see me. Neither could Uncle Press, who stared at the spot I had just vacated.

“Come out, come out,” Saint Dane sang. He fired at the bench, laughing maniacally.

I flew at him invisibly and gave him a great big punch to the face. I must have been stronger in ghost form because he went flying backward, landing hard on the stairs. I instantly went over to Uncle Press and looked him over. He didn’t seem hurt. I turned visible again.

“Danny, what–?” he started again, but I cut him off.

“I’ll explain later. Let’s get to that gate you were talking about.”

We hurried to the stairs at the end of the platform, Uncle Press looking over his shoulder at Saint Dane.

“How did you do that?” Uncle Press questioned as we went down the stairs. “And why do you look like that?”

“Oh, so now it’s your turn to ask questions,” I mocked. “What about my questions?”

“Right, we’ll talk about it later,” Uncle Press said. “Right now, we need to watch out for quigs.”

“What are quigs?”

In answer to my question, snarling and growling came from the darkness. I could see pairs of yellow eyes.

“Those are quigs,” Uncle Press said calmly. Boy, I was getting tired of his calm. “We need to find the gate. Now.”

We ran over the train tracks, feeling along the wall for the door. It was pitch black, so all we could see were yellow eyes chasing us. All I could hear was the growling at my back.

Finally, Uncle Press found the door and we hurried inside. I leaned against the door as bodies pounded against it, trying to get to us.

“The door won’t hold very long,” I warned.

“And Saint Dane will be right behind us,” Uncle Press added. That wasn’t a comforting thought.

I took that moment to survey the room we had entered. It was a tunnel that faded into darkness so that I couldn’t see the end. The tunnel looked like it had been hand-carved.

“Denduron!” Uncle Press shouted into the tunnel.

At first, it seemed nothing happened. Then I heard a hum. I also realized that the quigs weren’t attacking the door anymore. It was as though they just disappeared. The hum grew louder, and with it came lights. Then there were harmonious musical notes, and the cave seemed to change. It turned to crystal right before my eyes. Man, lots of things were transforming today.

I cautiously stepped away from the door. No quigs tried to barge through, so I figured it was safe. I felt something… tugging at me. Like a giant hand was pulling me into the tunnel. The light was so bright now that I could only see Uncle Press’s silhouette. I walked up to him so that I could see him better. He smiled at me.

“I’m ready for your questions, now,” he said as we were sucked into the vortex.

[If you liked that, D.J. MacHale does it way better! I tried my best to paraphrase except for the quotes. I also tried to make it more Danny-like instead of Bobby-like. That’s why Danny attacked Saint Dane at the end. Bobby ran and found the Flume. Danny… wouldn’t do that. Anyway. I hope you enjoyed it! Go read Pendragon!]

[goldenbloodytears]

Please do make some about Danny and Sam.

👍👍part 1 who is Superman

Superman part of the analysis:

Superman as a character is complex, but also really sympathetic when wrote right, rarely he if sadly. He is seen as simple good two shoes, boring and hypocritical for a lot of people.

Can see he imagining a perfect world were superman job is just help in emergency and natural disasters and the rest of time he can be just Clark together with everyone doing the best for everyone. In his words superman is what he can do not who he is.

In my opinion the best of Superman comics are the ones were the point is not a fight but finding different ways to stop the situation and don't cause damage, his whole life is damage control, even his powers make him the perfect first attended.

In a comic Superman and Wonder Woman are talking about how he needs training in fighting and he responded saying that he doesn't want to be good at it, that he feels he it's wrong to do so and he only fights because he knows someone needs to and he is usually the more strong and durable around, read earth.

That makes his deal with Lex Luthor interesting because Lex is in the center of humanity in a way, he's in the vanguard. Tech, politics and even media, Luthor is in the scene soo every time he deals with him, Superman gets throw in the public eye.

On a justice league animation, I think, he says how he can't wear a mask like other heros because he's already suspicious to humanity with his face laid bare and alien origin confirmed, he always on thin ice.

He safety lies on how long he can go unnoticed and insignificant to most people.

Clark can only be a person only when nobody knows that he can be superman. The moment they do he is alien man no legal rights McGee, and he can never lay low or just be again in the best of situations and be a thing to be dissected, and torn a part to study on the worst ones, making braniac gimmick of completely studying and then destroying everything a personal nightmare turned reality.

The more you learn about superman lore the more you stop thinking of him as a space Jesus and start seeing him as some weird guy just trying to make it in America, like he wasn't born there but he sure was raised as one, he saw the best humanity can offer, and he just giving back all the kindness he had received growing up.

Some of my favorite comics shows he growing up, learning himself as and being perceived as weird or creepy and still beeing loved and accepted, in fucking Kansas. Some comics the whole town of Smallville is in on it, like yes that's just the Kent's child, he is a little different and could juggle tractors like they weighted as much as air, but he is so polite and meek and kind, and the Kents, such a nice couple, always helping everyone in town, they always wanted kids, but they weren't able to conceive, they founding and raising Clark is like a fairy tale coming true.

The Kent's used to be hippies, then the high school sweet hearts settled down back were they grow up , in a farm living of the land, found a baby that come to them from the stars, took one look at him and decided that they were his family, the watched a shit ton of sci Fi movies and tried preparing him the best way they could for this world.

A lot of importance is given at his father teaching him, both the alien one teaching him about his home planet, their down fall, all the greed and desire to consume and conquer and and just thinking about what you want now and never about what others will need in the future. How he is the last of then, how he must uphold their culture, their existence and never let their mistakes repeat.

He doesn't know krypton, didn't even know that is what he is from until adulthood in some stories, he was different, but that was it, growing up he just knew what he wasn't.

Now a hologram of a man he doesn't even know appears to him like a Shakespearean ghost telling him he is his actual dead and he is indeed all alone in the universe and said universe is also kinda in his shoulders now, And Clark a kid with no past become a man with a mission, and so much more questions than before.

When Zod appears determined to conquer Earth, Clark has no choice but kill him, is his duty deal with kryptonian affairs and keep Earth save. When he can't find a peaceful solution he does kill, he hates it but he knows that is the option with less death in the end.

He already lost a home once, he will do everything to not lose another, be it fighting and even killing foes to recycling and always using the public transport.

But his other dad also was a big teacher, Jon is a strong man, the good kind of strong, the type to always help when they can and see the good in every one, a hard worker who refuse to take advantage of others, so different to that white collars from big cities that are destroying this world. Someone always looking out for the underdog.

He wants to be a hero that saves people but he doesn't want to fight much less kill.

Oooh yes, I can see what you mean—I’m always enthralled by how much superman is commentary on the immigrant experience, makes sense when you consider the Jewish origins of the comics. I do feel like it’s forgotten about when not thinking very in-depth about the general story/mythos/etc. very interesting!

Honestly he’s kinda relatable.

[meatriarch]

me when i say Fuck It to gun's timeline because two weeks is just Not Enough Time in my eyes to properly hold a missing person search throughout several counties and give them time to actually yknow. search ( which we know is already debatable but at least long enough to make it seem like they "tried" yknow? ) before calling it all off.

( which also this does not have to be adopted by anyone else - im just rambling and all but i do believe two weeks is just. not enough time at all- )

maria left for that last trip just before the uni of texas' spring break started. which typically seems to land somewhere between early-mid march (8th-16th). meaning she disappeared in that week.

( im inclined to say maybe within the first 3-4 days of her leaving is when she was taken, probably after she'd been driving most of the first and stopping at random to take photos. also inclined to say she left earlier than break actually started due to how any places she probably wanted to get to ).

her car was discovered abandoned - which could have easily been moved to a different location than where she actually went missing. and that could have taken any number of days to have been reported to local sheriffs after being called in by someone passing by, and which wouldve taken longer to look into before making that house call to her family and announcing her being missing ( esp considering its the 70s so...things were much slower to be processed, searches to be formed took longer to find enough bodies to look, etc ).

so im thinking im pondering im perceiving this roughly :

beginning of march: - maria leaves 2-3 days before spring break actually started. - by the time break is underway, she's made it to her initial few planned stops but is taken, her car hidden briefly, to be gone through. mid-march: - by the time spring break ends and classes resumes, maria never returned to her apartment or campus. - friends probably assumed she'd gotten sick maybe or something went on back home. - her car is discovered that week being back from break, found someplace else, and family is notified. - police start the investigation and search for her once confirmed she hasnt been in contact with anyone back home since those first couple days being gone. - that first-72-hours of easily finding a missing person window now out the door which makes them less concerned of finding her alive. that coupled with the sawyer/hewitt influence around the different departments? they seem less eager to do their jobs, they appear to be avoiding sending search parties at all to look around a certain region. end of march thru april: - when ana catches winds of talks of them suspending the search by the start of april when no leads have been found i think is when she actually leaves their hometown to go find the friends, see if they know anything, come up with a plan to go searching for themselves. - danny told everything and he speed-demons back from his trade schools' training by the coast. - the friends start scouring every place they can think of that maria could have gone to - both that she'd been to before, and where she'd mentioned to them she had planned to stop at or drive past during this trip ( which i imagine must've taken them yknow. a while to do. cause i'd assume they wanted to be thorough since the police weren't. ) - they keep meeting dead ends with every place they go to til they reach newt, and ultimately come across drayton, luda, etc etc. ( insert teehee forbidden knowledge )

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ like give it at least a little over a month to give shit time to unfold and grow more frustrating and confusing yknow? give it time for hopelessness to settle in to make that excitement of hearing from the scattered hewitt-sawyer family members of some possible leads refill them with the hope that maybe they've finally caught onto something!! that she was seen, that shes nearby maybe!!!

[meatriarchived]

me when i say Fuck It to gun's timeline because two weeks is just Not Enough Time in my eyes to properly hold a missing person search throughout several counties and give them time to actually yknow. search ( debatable but at least long enough to make it seem like they "tried" yknow? ) before calling it all off.

( which also this does not have to be adopted by anyone else - im just rambling and all but i do believe two weeks is just. not enough time at all- )

maria left for that last trip during the uni of texas' spring break. which typically seems to land somewhere between early-mid march (8th-16th). meaning she disappeared in that week.

( im inclined to say maybe within the first 3-4 days of her leaving, probably after she'd been driving most of the first and stopping at random to take photos. also inclined to say she left earlier than break actually started due to how any places she probably wanted to get to ).

her car was discovered abandoned - which could have easily been moved to a different location than where she actually went missing. and that could have taken any number of days to have been reported to local sheriffs after being called in by someone passing by, and which wouldve taken longer to look into before making that house call to her family and announcing her being missing ( esp considering its the 70s so...things were much slower to be processed, searches to be formed took longer to find enough bodies to look, etc ).

so im thinking im pondering im perceiving this roughly :

beginning of march: - maria leaves a day or two before spring break actually started. - by the time break is underway, she's made it to her initial few planned stops but is taken, her car hidden briefly, to be gone through. mid-march: - by the time spring break ends and classes resumes, maria never returned to her apartment or campus. - friends probably assumed she'd gotten sick maybe or something went on back home. - her car is discovered that week being back from break, found someplace else, and family is notified. - police start the investigation and search for her once confirmed she hasnt been in contact with anyone back home since those first couple days being gone. - that first-72-hours of easily finding a missing person window now out the door which makes them less concerned of finding her alive. that coupled with the sawyer/hewitt influence around the different departments? they seem less eager to do their jobs, they appear to be avoiding sending search parties at all to look around a certain region. end of march thru april: - when ana catches winds of talks of them suspending the search by the start of april when no leads have been found i think is when she actually leaves their hometown to go find the friends, see if they know anything, come up with a plan to go searching for themselves. - danny told everything and he speed-demons back from his trade schools' training by the coast. - the friends start scouring every place they can think of that maria could have gone to - both that she'd been to before, and where she'd mentioned to them she had planned to stop at or drive past during this trip ( which i imagine must've taken them yknow. a while to do. cause i'd assume they wanted to be thorough since the police weren't. ) - they keep meeting dead ends with every place they go to til they reach newt, and ultimately come across drayton, luda, etc etc. ( insert teehee forbidden knowledge )

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ like give it at least a little over a month to give shit time to unfold and grow more frustrating and confusing yknow? give it time for hopelessness to settle in to make that excitement of hearing from the scattered family members of some possible leads refill them with the hope that maybe they've finally caught onto something!! that she was seen, that shes nearby maybe!!!

that they can maybe find her and bring her home finally!!!!!

[savanir]

It had been convenient for Vlad that that bumbling idiot still considered them friends, college buddies. He had helpfully ran his mouth and told him that Maddie and Jazz had planned a few days away for a girl bonding trip.

Jack had gleefully talked about his own plans to do some father-son bonding ghost hunting with his ‘Dann-o’.

Too bad for him that wasn’t going to happen.

Vlad hired the best merc for the job, overkill perhaps but Daniel was going to be there and despite his naivety and his status as baby Halfa the boy should certainly not be underestimated.

No matter what, once this hit was carried through Vlad would finally have what he always wanted, Maddie, Daniel, Jazz too for good measure and that oaf dead. All the rewards and none of the blame.

sure Daniel would be suspicious… but it wouldn’t be Vlad doing the killing, and everything leading back to him would be expertly and professionally hidden.

getting proof of a confirmed kill had been music to his ears. Vlad made sure to keep his distance from the house so as to not give himself away though, he’d patiently wait to hear the ‘horrible’ news from Maddie.

Things soured when Jack’s death was confirmed and it was revealed Daniel was missing

His beautiful Madeline was obsessed, her pointless grief over the dead moron was clouding her judgment and the only thing she paid any attention to was finding the missing boy.

There was absolutely no room for Vlad to offer her comfort during these difficult times.

he supposed that asked for drastic measures.

And poor Jasmine, if she wasn’t trying her hardest to get her mother to still look after herself, then she would be with Daniel’s old friends.

from what Vlad managed to catch, everyone thought it had been a new enemy (this worked in Vlad’s favor) seeing as quite a few Fentonworks tech had been stolen during the attack (a little worrying, he’d rather wished Deathstroke did not have anti-ghost weaponry) and it seemed the portal had been irreparably damaged during the altercation as well.

Jasmine and Daniel’s friends seemed to have confirmed somehow that Daniel had not fled into the Infinite Realms. Vlad made sure to confirm that himself as well.

This left Deathstroke, he most likely took Daniel for some reason…

Annoying, and puzzling, Vlad wasn’t looking forward to figuring that mess out himself later, but he prioritized his current here and now, if Deathstroke was the one to take Daniel then any regular missing person campaign wasn’t going to cut it. 

Simply put, Vlad figured it would be best to just put an end to the whole thing. 

And so he went through the effort to make another Daniel clone, focussing only on appearance and not caring in the slightest if the thing was alive or not, in fact, it being dead from the start would probably be better.

Ditch the clone body in the woods, guide the search efforts to it and that should put an end to it all and he’ll finally be able to properly comfort and care for his beloved Madeline.

Meanwhile, Slade had been making progress with Danny, it had been rather simple really… sure, he killed the boy’s father, but it was nothing personal kid, strictly business.

Simply telling Danny the truth worked completely in his favor here.

And damn, did this boy hide some serious anger behind those eyes, a very familiar sort of anger.

And Respawn was just as helpful as Slade thought, Danny was a protector and he’d gotten it in his head that he had to stay for the other boy. Fix him or something.

Slade is fine with that, Respawn needs more people skills and he has to learn teamwork. This was working in his advantage no matter what, besides Respawn is loyal, there is no worry about any betrayal.

All Slade has to do really is focus on Danny’s desire for vengeance.

It’s not like the kid was going to get away from him anymore anyway, by this point Slade has made his tracking nanomachines ‘ghost’ proof

This was an easy hit.

Granted the energy guns hurt but he healed fast and pain was barely registered to him anymore.

He was used to the occasional target fighting back, it always made it at least a little interesting, he has too many years under his belt to be taken out by mere civilians. Even as armed as they were.

Masters grudge against a his old collage ‘friend’ wasn’t even a new story, self entitled assholes that found themselves with an abundance of wealth sending a hit out after a perceived wrong was an old tale.

The kid was…interesting…reminded him of a certain other hero…

Ran his mouth a little too much and needed more training…both easily fixed really and Slade…Slade had the experience to help the little hero reach his full potential.

Really, if he thought about it, a vacation of a mission.

Hell, everything he needed to restrain the kid was right in the child’s own home, didn’t even have to buy the equipment or break into anything with the way everything was out in the open.

In fact, he thinks he should be given a good guy point for getting Danny out of that place, it was obviously dangerous to his well being after all.

So, an easy hit, easy pay and a bonus on top.

Respawn won’t mind having a younger brother, not after a few words on how his son was obviously the superior child and that Slade would need his help in aiding Danny’s merge with their family.

If Masters threw a fit about him getting the kid, well, Slade had a few surprises he had lifted from the Fenton’s lab he could show him.

[dragonmasterhiccup]

Her face fell, and her eyes flickered over Hiccups shoulder before staring him dead in the eyes once again. “Nonono, don’t act like that, you know you left me. Boss— he told me so, and he isn’t a liar, unlike you.”

Danny let out an amused chuckle, cocking her head to the side at Astrid’s outburst. “I’m not scared of you, if that’s what you think. Yelling at me like a little kid doesn’t change anything, it doesn’t change that I was lied to, and you… you were a part of it, maybe I should kill you too, Berks best-warrior-ever, dead! Yeah… yeah, what about that?” She stopped right in front of Astrid, ignoring the cries that came from Zephyr, her eyes big, almost trying to appear innocent in a way.

Her smile returned, and she tried grabbing Hiccups hand to pull him away.

“A… minute…? Fine, but be quick, Boss wants me back.”

Uh-oh, she hadn’t thought about that, Boss didn’t want her to capture Hiccup, he just wanted her to scare him… Welp! What’s done is done!

She tapped her foot on the wood flooring. “Can you hurry up?! You’re taking forever, and I wanna go.”

She waved at Astrid smugly as she left before turning her focus back to Hiccup. “Okay! Let’s do this!”

Looping a finger through the pin holes of the metallic sphere, she tugged them off quickly before throwing it out the window, causing a nearby explosion.

She didn’t give time for Hiccup to react, as he was struck with one of the Deathgrippers tails, which knocked him out instantly.

———

“This wasn’t the plan! Danielle, do you realize what you’ve done?!” Grimmel yelled, glaring down at the girl.

Hiccup had been placed in a nearby cell, bounded to the wall by a chain attached to his ankle.

She giggled. “Of course I know what I did! We got Hiccup!”

“That wasn’t what you were instructed to do!”

“Uhh, yes it was! You said Toothless took priority over Hiccup, but since I couldn’t find him, I took him instead!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an annoyed sigh. “We need to fix this. You just took out Berks Chief, his people are going to come looking for him. You didn’t tell any one of here, correct?”

“No, I’m not stupid.”

“That’s good at least. Okay, here’s what we’re going to do, and you need to listen. Tomorrow night, you’re going back, do what you do and cause problems, blow stuff up, just keep the people distracted.”

Her face lit up at that. “You got it!”

“Good, good… But you need to keep him alive, for now… I still need that Night Fury.”

Danny groaned. “Fine, for now…”

She looked over at Hiccups cell to see him waking up. “Hey! How’d you sleep?” she asked, her voice chipper as she sat outside of the cell.

His eyes widened, suddenly realizing. "You don't remember, do you? But..." She knew who Zephyr was, knew Hiccup and Valka were her family...it didn't make sense. "I don't understand, just who is this 'Boss' of yours?" He needed to know, not just to confirm their suspicions, but to try to give Astrid more information as well.

Astrid stood her ground, her expression not faltering once. The only movement she made was to rub Zephyr's back, trying to comfort her.

"Hiccup!" All Astrid could do was cover her daughter's eyes as her husband crumpled to the ground, a single tear slipping from his eyes as he hit the wooden floor.

The last thing Hiccup remembered before everything went black was hearing Zephyr cry, and Astrid calling his name.

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

Hiccup woke up to muffled voices, his head pounding.

Where was he?

Where was Astrid?

He had a bump on his head from when he fell, and his face scrunched up in pain as he tried rolling over.

The sound of a chain scraping against stone caused some memories to come flooding back.

His mind foggily started catching up, and as his vision cleared, he realized he was in a cell, a chain connecting his ankle to the wall.

He could only hear snippets of what was said, but he was able to figure one thing out: if Danny was able to go back and forth to Berk so quickly, they couldn't be too far away.

He'd have to pay close attention, to everything, if he was going to get back home to Astrid and Zephyr.

Sitting himself up, he groaned, his head wound not happy with any movement.

Breathing heavily, waiting for the pain to recede, he glanced up at Danny briefly. "Fine. You?"

[onespvrk]

welcome to london, DANNY JOHNSON/JED OLSEN! did anyone ever tell you that you look just like BEN BARNES? well, no matter, we hear that you are 35 and working as a FREELANCE JOURNALIST. we also hear that you currently HAVE your memories from DEAD BY DAYLIGHT and have a tendency to be CREATIVE as well as DESTRUCTIVE.

bio taken from villans wikia and dbd wikia

Danny's fascination with murder dated back to when his father, a serial killer and war veteran, trained Danny on how to hunt and stalk people in the woods. Johnson's first victim (or as he calls it, his "first design") was his own father. He murdered his dad during a camping trip in a bloody and emotional way, which he regrets, not because he killed his father but because it was a spur-of-the-moment murder and not a meticulously planned assassination. He also has a very sinister philosophy on humanity. In college, he took a class in anthropology where he argued that humanity was intrinsically a race of killers masking its true "bloody face of horror" with facades to take advantage of civilization and achievement.

Eventually, under the pseudonym of Jed Olsen, he became a freelance journalist specializing in crime articles. To become famous, he started committing murders as the Ghost Face, a killer shrouded in mystery. Many of his victims were young and old, confusing authorities by carrying out premeditated murders with the violence of a crime of passion. Johnson enjoyed being the mystery behind the killings, and continued stalking some of his victims for days. He traveled from state to state including Utah and Pennsylvania.

He also had an experience with a parody newspaper which mocked him and other serial killers. After meticulously planning a break-in and murder of the most ordinary person he could find (in order to terrify all the other 'normal' people in the area), he was distracted and enraged by seeing the parody papers of his persona on a table. This almost caused him to get caught, so he was unable to carry out his murder. Afterwards, he tracked down and stalked the three people who created the parody.

Finding out that they use a laser tag building to hang out in and print their parodies, he plots another break in and murder. He plans to kill them one by one as they play laser tag with each other. Once he breaks in, he sees a massive wall filled with parodies. Attempting to calm himself down, he repeats the phrase "You don't laugh at legends." Eventually, Danny blacks out, and when he came to realize that he has attacked the three men. One of them is dead off to the side, and another has been mutilated beyond recognition. Standing over the last man, who was attempting to crawl away, Danny rants about his parodies and then talks about how he is going to write a paper about this incident and pin the blame on one of them for murdering the other men. Danny realizes that he was not wearing his mask during this attack, but then reasons with himself that it was a more personal matter, since the Ghost Face doesn't kill like this.

In 1993, upon travelling to the town of Roseville, Florida, Danny produced footage of the Ghost Face breaking into a house and committing murder, effectively making a newspaper about himself. He swiftly left Roseville when evidence began pointing to him, but not before leaving a mocking note confirming he was the one behind the killings. He was hiding out somewhere during a hot summer day, where he reminisced about past murders and wondered when the heat was going to stop. He seemed to be having memory issues, not knowing when he last ate. Then, a mysterious cold fog appeared in the room, and he suited up and stepped inside.

GHOST FACE DISAPPEARS June 18, 1993 At first glance, Jed Olsen was a modest and enthusiastic freelancer with experience in a variety of small newspapers. The staff at the Roseville Gazette appreciated how easy-going and honest he seemed, and so he was treated as a stranger for no more than five minutes into his interview: "Jed quickly spotted the editor-in-chief in the room, gave him a wide smile and a firm handshake, and talked about good old American values. And that was it, he was in." —Ex-Contributor at the Roseville Gazette Olsen never justified his erratic career path, which zigzagged between several small towns from Utah to Pennsylvania. There was no verification of his previous jobs. He had a decent portfolio plus a good attitude, and they needed a contributor right away. THE ROSEVILLE MURDERS Olsen had been working at the newspaper for five months when the Roseville Murders began: victims from young to old, stabbed to death in their homes. From the reports, the victims seemed chosen at random, yet the killer knew his way around in the houses. The multiple stab wounds indicated a personal motive. No traces of DNA were found. The local police were confounded: the murders were carried with fury akin to a crime of passion yet coldly premeditated. The murderer also liked to stalk his targets. Two victims had reported being followed on their way home by a dark figure, a few days prior their death. The killer would follow them from Walleyes, a small bar in Northern Roseville, and snap pictures of them at home, while looking for a way in. He could watch the same victim for weeks, meticulously registering their habits and routines. When he felt the urge to kill, he'd visit the most vulnerable victim on his list, and break inside the house quietly. The whole staff worked on the Roseville Murders story. Olsen was often sent to interview the family of victims and relay official statements from the police. Unknown to everyone at the time, his involvement added to the final body count.

THE GHOST FACE Panic swelled in Roseville when Olsen produced footage of a hooded figure breaking into a house at night. The masked face, a white blur in the dark, stared at the camera for a second, before disappearing inside. “The Ghost Face Caught on Tape” was the resulting article, written by Olsen. He seemed proud of his work at the time, enjoying how the whole town feared his ghost stories. Weeks later, Olsen left a note on his work desk and disappeared: "I hope you liked my stories--I enjoyed bringing them to life. Don't worry, I'm not done." –Jed Olsen The Roseville law enforcement still refuses to comment as Jed Olsen remains at large.

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Chasing Shadows (5)

AO3 -> First, last, next

Fandoms: Danny Phantom (DP) / DC universe

Summary:  THIS IS A CROSSOVER. As Bruce Wayne begins to slowly recover from the loss of his son, two separate mysteries open up old wounds. Who is the unknown leaving clues  hinting at a return to Gotham, and who is the phantom pretending to be  his lost son? Is it just a coincidence they’re active in Gotham at the  same time? Or are they connected?  

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, and questionable mental health

Parings: none

Notes: originally uploaded to AO3. Cross-posted to tumblr

After the trip to the graveyard, Bruce made plans with Alfred to remove the casket so it could be examined in the cave before heading to Arkham to talk to the Riddler. Nygma again denied knowing what happened to Jason’s body, even after having a couple of his fingers broken. Bruce believed him after that. He also didn’t recognize the wax covered pomegranate but was openly intrigued by it. Deciding it might be beneficial to let Nygma know this was the same person who sabotaged him months ago, he sat back and watched the man fume before offering his services to help.

Would it help in Bruce’s investigation into the “famous nobody”? Unlikely, but perhaps seeing the clues might jog something he heard or saw when he orchestrated the Hush plot that didn’t mean much to him at the time. He would bring photos of the clues to Nygma after he further examined the pomegranate.

After returning to the cave, Tim hesitantly checked on him before leaving him to his work. While he appreciated the concern, he didn’t want to be bothered for now.

The pomegranate ended up just being a simple pomegranate, but the wax preservation made it difficult to verify how old it was. However, he did discover the wax was made from Esparto.

While the plant found most of its modern use making paper and wax, Esparto was once heavily used to make ropes specifically for use on boats, and in parts of the Mediterranean, beekeepers would burn the plant to make the smoke needed to gather honey, honeycombs, and beeswax. Ropes and wax, more ties to the ancient epic.

Even the pomegranate had another tie to the story than he originally believed. In a few carvings of the Sirens, they were shown holding the fruit which signified their ties to death. This person did his research.

…

The next evening, he and Alfred removed the casket from the cemetery before he once again returned to Arkham. Nygma couldn’t hide how his features lit up when he reviewed the images of the clues from Nobody.

“While I wouldn’t have chosen such a subtle way of doing this, these are good,” he grudgingly admitted. “It’s interesting how this person keeps referencing life and death. Whoever your person is, he’s on his way back home and had been presumed dead, but you knew that already.”

Bruce knew that his silence on the matter would be taken as an affirmative. “Does anything about this seem familiar?”

“No, but this is the person who took that important object from you.” The Riddler’s eyes drifted towards the door where there were guards within earshot to let him know why he phrased it that way. That was strangely courteous, but it didn’t improve Bruce’s mood. “Hush didn’t take my words about you at face value. He received a second confirmation from someone else. While I didn’t personally meet him, Hush is the only one who did, I know he’s the one who caused you to fall which set everything in motion. This person knows an awful lot about you. I’m almost jealous.”

He knew his cut line had been purposeful, but it was nice to have a confirmation on who it was. It specifically put him in crime alley where he had met Jason. Whoever the ‘famous nobody’ was, there was a connection to his son, but what was it? Why had gotten Clayface to take on the appearance of an adult Jason? Why had he taken him? Knowing he wouldn’t gain anything further from Nygma, he took his leave and ran his patrol for the evening.

When he returned home, the casket waited for him. The first thing he noted was how pristine it appeared. The son of the man who made his parents coffin had made the one for Jason. His craftmanship eclipsed the work of his father, but even with the skill, it should have shown signs of time, especially inside of it. But there was nothing there. After examining every inch of it, he couldn’t find traces of decay from Jason’s body. His son had never been in it.

He knew full well he buried his son, but whoever took him had the coffin replaced. With it being identical to the original, he knew someone had gotten the coffin maker to duplicate it. Due to the cost involved, whoever asked for it must have either a great personal wealth, or the more likely situation judging by what he knew of the unknown, good connections.

Although it was unlikely the craftsman would give him any information, he would still try to reach out as Bruce Wayne to see if he could give him any hint of who may have commissioned the replacement. Even if he decided to provide any information, it would still take time to get it.

It seemed as if the replacement occurred recently. Perhaps, just prior to the Hush plot. But if that was the case, why would Phantom have said Jason was missing for at least two years? His body language hadn’t suggested a lie, so he at least believed it. It was likely that’s what the ‘famous nobody’ told him.

Though, there was the possibility that the ‘nobody’ didn’t have the coffin replaced. Instead, he was just aware of it and wanted to bring it to Bruce’s attention. If that was the case, maybe Jason was missing longer than he wanted to admit.

He needed to take a step back and reevaluate everything. Firstly, he would need to review who might have ties to Jason outside their family. Because, if he understood the motivations of this ‘nobody’ correctly, everything he did centered around his son. If he could figure out who it might be, he would be able to return Jason home faster. But if he couldn’t, he knew he wouldn’t be able to locate him until he found the final clue, and he had no idea how long that would take.

…

Dick found out about Jason’s empty casket from Tim. Of course, Bruce wouldn’t tell him. Just like how he didn’t tell him that Jason died. But this time, Dick could see the grief. He knew this was something he wanted to handle on his own.

That didn’t mean Dick couldn’t put feelers out for information when he was in Gotham. That’s why he was currently stalking the shadows of Crime Alley. Sometimes the low levels chatted when they thought they weren’t in earshot.

But right now, the most interesting conversations were about someone new in the area. They didn’t know much about him other than he was slowly pushing the low-level thugs, traffickers, and drug dealers out of the area. They were calling him the Red Hood due to the red helmet he wore. While it wasn’t much, it did potentially match up with the unknown pulling the strings regarding the ‘famous nobody’ and even Phantom.

He didn’t seem to be present all the time in Gotham per what he’d gathered, but he seemed to be coming and going more frequently than he was. The criminals didn’t know anything about the man other than he seemed to work alone, and that he was well-trained. Once, he even heard someone mention he was just as stealthy as Batman as no one seemed to hear him coming. If that was true, it made him even more dangerous as few people could do that.

Eventually, he made his way to a warehouse on the edges of Crime Alley that a few thugs had reported seeing Phantom near recently. While it wasn’t the Unknown he wanted to find, if they could locate Phantom’s base of operations, it could lead them back to the other one.

Slipping into an open window, he carefully made his way around the upper perimeter of the building. At first, he didn’t catch sight of anyone, but as he moved towards the east side, he began hearing voices. They were indistinct at first, so he crept closer.

“… getting worse.” The strange voice with the echo could only belong to Phantom.

Dick took the chance to move a little faster in order to see the meta. He was floating near another large figure who was facing away from Dick. The unknown man had his shirt removed, and there seemed to be strange greenish markings on him. Were they tattoos?

If only he could get closer, but that would further risk him being spotted. For now, he just needed to wait and watch.

“They weren’t visible like this until after I faced the old man,” he explained as he rubbed his hand along his left arm, almost tenderly tracing what Dick could make out of the markings. So they weren’t tattoos? Or were they something more mystical?

He also noted the Unknown’s voice held a Gotham accent. But if Dick wasn’t mistaken, it also sounded a lot younger than he expected. Was this person only in their teens or early twenties? That would line up with someone who might have known Jason when he was still alive.

Phantom shifted so he looked like he was sitting in the air. “The last time that happened, was when you let Robin catch sight of you. Are you sure you want to continue this?” When the other man tensed in preparation to speak, Phantom held up his hands. “I know why you’re doing this. Heck, I even agree with you, why else would I be helping? But whatever that woman did to you did something to your body. You know it. I know it.”

So Phantom was working with this unknown, and he, at least, believed he was willingly doing so. That didn’t rule out he was tricked into believing that.

“I don’t recall ever mentioning that to you.” A clear warning crept into the unknown’s voice.

“Oh, the scary eyes.” Sarcasm dripped off of Phantom’s voice before it shifted to a more serious tone. “Look, I can sense it. Whatever it is, it’s similar enough to what prevented me from having a true death.” He angrily gestured at the man. “I’m worried it’s tipping your goals into a true obsession. You promised me the only people you’d hurt were criminals, and, if it came to it, Batman. You could have killed Robin with that stunt in the cemetery! He had nothing to do with what happened to you! And don’t get me started on what you pulled with Man-Bat! You didn’t warn me about that one because you know I would have tried to stop it, right?”

A flash of anger raced through Dick’s body. This man was the ‘famous nobody.’ The one who hurt took his brother’s body.

Phantom also suggested he was the one who hurt Tim. But Bruce had been absolutely certain that was Clayface. Was it possible they’d switched places sometime during the fight? The cowl footage of the fight did show the unknown bleeding at one point, and Bruce did loose track of him in a few frames. That would make sense with how he showed himself at that press conference. It also helped strengthen the claim that Tim briefly saw him when he was in civies.

What in the world was this man after? If he hadn’t altered his appearance, then he did look a great deal like Jason would have, if he ever had a chance to grow up. Though, he was a lot bigger than any of them would have expected. His brother was believed to have stunted growth due to malnutrition.

But Jason was dead. He knew that, but something in the back of his mind kept nagging at him. Could it be possible he was somehow back?

That didn’t make any sense. While Dick personally knew a few people who had come back from death, the miracles that gave them back their lives hadn’t touched his brother. Besides, what would Jason have gotten out of doing all of this? It also wouldn’t explain who or what Phantom was. The more he learned, the more confusing it got.

“I… I went too far with the kid.” Nobody’s voice sounded troubled as if he was confused with his actions. “It should have gone no further than the threat. I just needed to see how he’d react… I wanted to see if there was regret... pain… something.” He gave a humorless laugh as he grabbed his shirt off the nearby table and put it on.  

“Good,” Phantom gave a sharp nod, “as long as you’re aware of that.”

“I should give you the same warning.” When the meta jolted in surprise, Nobody gave a fond chuckle. Dick still couldn’t see his face. “Dove, you know how I feel about teen heroes, but I should have known that nature of yours would cause you to get directly involved in the fights. Even without all the ghostly bullshit you deal with, the feeling of stopping the bad guys and helping the innocent can be addicting.”

“Don’t call me that, and I’m being careful!”

“For now you are.” Nobody sighed as he ran his hand through his dark hair. “Look, don’t take any unnecessary risks. You’ve been a big help, and I don’t want to hear you walked into a trap. Even the best heroes fail eventually, and I still won’t be in the city full time for a while.”

“Can I at least get a warning of what you’re planning next time?”

“What? And ruin the surprise?” Nobody fingered a red helmet that was sitting near where his shirt had been for a moment before putting it on. “Besides, you never know when a little birdy is watching.” That statement seemed a little too pointed. Did he know?

“Head home, kid,” the man ruffled Phantom’s hair before gently shooing him.

After brushing his hands away, the teen smoothed his hair before sticking out his tongue. “Don’t call me that. You aren’t all that much older than me.”

“But I’m still older.” Even through the voice modulator of the helmet, Dick could hear Nobody’s playful tone. No matter what this man was, he seemed to have a genuine fondness for Phantom. “You’ve been doing a lot recently, so make sure you take time to rest. I don’t want to hear you were back on the streets tonight. You know I have ears everywhere.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t go dying again on whatever trip you’re taking.” With that, Phantom faded from view.

Dick quickly switched to the thermal and watched a cold form slip through the east wall. Sending a message to Tim, Babs, Steph, and Cass, he hoped one of them was close enough that they might be able to further track him.

But there was another abnormality on the thermal, Nobody. He was so cold it almost was as if he was a cooling corpse. How was this man alive? Was he even human?

Nobody, the Red Hood, glanced in his direction. Oh, he absolutely knew Dick was there. Crap. Well, the man was in a talkative mood, he might as well oblige.

“Nightwing,” the man greeted as Dick dropped down to the floor. He made no defensive move but with the helmet covering his head, it was difficult to gage any tells he might have regarding what he was planning.

“I’ve been hearing people calling you the Red Hood.” Dick remained on guard as he watched the man. Now that he was closer, he could verify the man was nearly as tall as Bruce and built similarly. He also wore several gun holsters, all of them filled. They knew he had some sort of firearms training, but they didn’t know the extent of it.

Hood shrugged. “Several people have used it throughout the years. What’s one more?”

“Right.” There was something about the way he phrased it that made Dick pause. Not many people were aware that the moniker had been used periodically throughout the years. “What’s Phantom to you? If you’re harming him…”

“Oh, have you developed a fondness for the little ghost? Does he remind you of the brother you lost?”

Ignoring the sting of his words, Dick grabbed his escrima sticks. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Nor does it answer mine,” Hood tilted his head slightly, “but I’ll indulge you. I have only asked him to help me place my clues when the occasion needed it. He took it upon himself to watch over you and the others. If I could, I’d stop him from getting involved with the costumes of Gotham, but I can’t do anything to stop a ghost’s obsessive nature other than redirect it.” He retrieved one of his handguns from its holster and pointed it at Dick. “Heed my warning, Nightwing. If you or the others let anything happen to him, there will be hell to pay. Even the dead can die again.”

Dick didn’t wait for Hood to pull the trigger. Instead, he bounced out of the line of fire and lunged at the man. Strangely, the man stayed on the defensive and pulled away as opposed to immediately fighting back. That changed when he leaped over the table his gear had previously been on and kicked it at him.

As he dodged and attempted to find Hood again, he felt something hard press into his back. He went still as he tried to gage the best way of escaping.

“I’m not interested in fighting you,” Hood told him. “My grievances are with Batman, and only Batman. You and the others don’t need to get into the crosshairs.”

He twisted in hopes he could knock the gun out of the man’s hand, but Hood seemed to be aware of what he’d try and pulled back just in time. “What do you want with him? And why, why would you take Jason?”

“I didn’t take the lost Robin,” he responded slowly, almost as if he was carefully choosing his words. “He was in that grave less than a year, but no one ever knew because no one bothered to visit.” He slipped a smoke bomb out of his utility belt and detonated it. “And for why I’m here… Ever think that sometimes the dead can’t rest until they’re fully avenged?”

Dick tried to switch back to the thermal to see where Hood went, but the smoke disoriented him enough to prevent more than catching his strange heat signature moving up into the rafters before disappearing. Nothing about what just happened made any sense to him. Red Hood, who had brutally dispatched some of the criminals in Crime Alley and purposely caused a fight between Batman and Man-Bat, hadn’t been interested in fighting and provided more questions than answers.

Had he taken Jason? Or did someone else did, and he was making an elaborate game out of their ignorance of the situation? While Bruce would want a report, Dick decided that he wanted to verify the timeline Hood suggested first. Calling Babs, he asked her to help him find any evidence that his brother had been missing for years longer than they ever expected.

…

In the month that followed Dick’s confrontation with the Red Hood, they made little progress in determining who he was. Bruce had retraced Jason’s life and anyone who he associated with before and after coming to the manor. Every person had been reliably accounted for, whether alive or dead.

Their best chance at identifying him, outside of questioning Phantom, lied in the strange markings on his body. They didn’t appear to be traditional tattoos. Judging by what Dick overheard, they were possibly a type of illness or even a curse. He had hoped to consult Zatanna at the next League meeting, but everything related to the Red Hood had temporarily been put on hold due to Tim’s exit.

Jack Drake, Tim’s father, discovered his son was the current Robin. Infuriated, he threated to expose everything Bruce and his immediate and extended family worked for over the years. Tim made the impossible decision to hang up the cape and go willingly with his father. As much as he missed the boy’s presence, Bruce couldn’t fault him.

Just as he was getting used to the idea of working primarily by himself again, Stephanie Brown broke into the Batcave. She’d been helping them as Spoiler for a while, but her skills were lacking but improving. However, she admittedly blindsided him when she showed up in a homemade costume which looked similar to Tim’s and demanded to become the new Robin. With some reservations, he agreed as long as she was willing to undergo better training.

For a while, it appeared she would be a great Robin, but after a nasty run in with Mr. Zsasz, a psychotic serial killer who had escaped Arkham, Bruce had second thoughts. The man attempted to take Stephanie as his next target, but she fought back and nearly killed him. While Bruce understood the need to protect herself, Stephanie had taken it too far. It was especially troubling after Bruce learned Phantom helped her escape, and she went back to incapacitate the criminal.

But the finally call came when she openly disobeyed his orders. Yes, she did so to help him, but she’d proven multiple times she wouldn’t follow instructions to the point it created more issues. He couldn’t trust her, and as a result, forbade her from donning the cape ever again. He should have known she wouldn’t listen to him.

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

odyssey clues:

Stop 8 was the island of the sirens. This one was a little trickier which is why there were 2 plants. Firstly, some carvings of the sirens depict them with pomegranates. Those are famously associated with death due to the myth of Hades and Persephone. But the Esparto has a neat connection too. Ancient cultures, including the Greeks, used the fibers to make boat ropes. Odysseus tied himself to the mast while they passed the island. It can also be used to max wax, which Odysseus' men put in their ears, but in some places, the fibers were used to make smoke for beekeepers to get honey, honeycombs, and beeswax.

[phantomtwitch]

Took me a bit, but here's the last part! It's also up on AO3.

Tagging folks: @kayla-ao3 @phoenixdemonqueen @thesamestarlight @chickenlover-19 @paenling

Future

CW: Death, Brief description of injuries, brief mention of trauma/PTSD

Maddie tried to stay calm even as she felt herself panicking. First, she searched the hospital first from top to bottom, hoping to find Clockwork waiting somewhere nearby, but he was nowhere to be found. He abandoned her, leaving her here in the past. She knew the ghost didn’t like her, that on some level he might even despise her, but she never expected him to trap her here and let her die. Without Clockwork’s help, her options were limited. Maddie knew she could try to follow her past self, hoping she would end up in whatever the next memory was supposed to be and that maybe then he would appear, but right now, she couldn’t bear to be near Danny. Not after what she saw.

She still didn’t understand it. Her son couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be a ghost. The thoughts continued to spin on repeat in her mind, even as she heard Danny confirm what he was. And after that moment with her father, what else could he be? It explained so much - the absences, his grades, the odd fondness Clockwork seemed to have for him - while explaining nothing at all. Ghosts couldn’t become exhausted, they didn’t need to eat, they didn’t get bruises, they certainly didn’t bleed, all of which Danny did. She pushed the thoughts away as she felt herself beginning to unravel. It could wait. It needed to wait. Right now, Maddie wasn’t sure if she would survive, and she couldn’t do anything for Danny if she didn’t take care of herself first. 

Clockwork mentioned that her form was currently weak and insubstantial and that losing herself in the past could mean she risked permanently fading. If she was a ghost, or at least something close to it, then being near the portal would make her stronger thanks to the ambient ectoplasm in the air around it, and it was only six months to the incident that started this strange trip through her memories. If she could survive that long, then hopefully Clockwork would reappear, and with any luck she would find a way back to her family. To her life.

The trip took a long time. Maddie tried to get on a bus, but found she couldn’t, the vehicle leaving her behind as it pulled its other passengers forward. It made no sense and she scowled, her intangibility illogical to the point of extremes. She shouldn’t be able to walk through buildings and hallways if she couldn’t ride a bus, and yet she did so with ease. She never fell through the earth and into the ground below, but any moving vehicle appeared to be beyond her capabilities. She didn’t dare attempt to go on a plane at this point. 

Yet Maddie was nothing if not stubborn, and so she walked, following the long, meandering highways and road signs back to Amity Park. She felt no exhaustion, no hunger, no thirst. It was convenient, but troubling, a disconnect from her humanity she neither asked for nor wanted. And as she continued, she tried not to think about Danny, pushing thoughts of her son away each time they crept into her consciousness. How much of this would she remember when she returned? The moment with her father wasn’t her memory. Would she be allowed to keep it, to carry it with her so she could finally ask him the truth once she saw him?

She didn’t know how long the trip took, losing track of the days all too quickly, and when she finally made it home late one afternoon she struggled not to break down, knowing her tears would never actually come as long as she remained in this form, that there would be no relief to be had. For a few minutes she remained outside, staring at the glowing FentonWorks sign and the Ops Center. The curtains in the living room were pulled tightly closed, but she could catch flickers of light around the edges, someone no doubt watching TV or playing video games. 

She walked up the steps and hovered outside the door for another second. She could hear laughter from within, the sounds of her son and his friends, she thought, and Maddie swallowed, not certain she was ready to face the reality that her son was dead and a ghost. But if she remained here, then eventually she would fade to nothing, be lost and untethered and gone, and Maddie wasn’t ready to die just yet.

Instinctively she reached for the handle and tried to push the door open, but as her hand simply went through it, she gave a breathless sigh as she stepped through. Her son sat sprawled on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table as he gripped his controller tightly. They were playing Mario Kart, from the looks of it, and Sam was beating Danny and Tucker easily. She remained still and smiled as she watched them, wondering how her son could possibly be dead as he grabbed a mouthful of popcorn and took a long sip of soda. Maybe what she saw with her father wasn’t real, but instead some nightmare called up from the darkest parts of her subconscious. Or maybe it was an illusion, some kind of distraction or misrepresentation of reality created by Clockwork. She knew nothing of the ghost’s true powers or abilities, but she could tell he hated her. An illusion designed to unsettle her was hardly a stretch.

But then her son glanced at the door, and his eyes widened a fraction as his mouth formed a small ‘o.’ He paled, staring at her as his friends continued playing, not noticing Danny’s reaction or his distress, and then he looked away. “Hey, guys? I don’t feel super good,” he said. “I think that stupid bug Jazz had last week finally caught up to me.”

“Oh, please. You’re just saying that because you lost again,” insisted Sam, laughing as she punched him gently in the arm. 

“No, seriously! My stomach hurts really badly, okay? You need to go, like right now,” he insisted, holding his stomach and wincing, and Tucker and Sam shared a look that suggested they could see right through the lie, but instead of arguing with him, they shrugged, packing their bags and heading out the door with a few quick goodbyes. Sam shivered as she walked through Maddie, clearly not seeing her there even as her son obviously did, his eyes continually flicking in her direction even as he continued to say nothing to her. 

“If you feel better later, let us know and we can play Doomed, okay?” offered Tucker as they stepped outside. 

“And call us if you need help with patrols,” said Sam.

“I will, thanks,” he said, smiling at them, and then the door clicked shut. He paused, putting his head against it and releasing a long, slow breath, before he turned to her. The shift in him was instantaneous as he stood up straighter, no longer pretending to be sick, and his eyes glowed faintly as he met her own gaze. “Mom?”

“You can see me?” She knew he could, even though he hadn’t previously, but she didn’t know what else to say, didn’t want to give voice to the worst thoughts that buzzed in the back of her brain like a swarm of bees. 

“I–uh, yeah, I can see you,” he confirmed. “But if you’re like this, then that–you’re–” He shook his head, blinking rapidly. “I saw you like ten minutes ago. What happened?”

Disbelief, then. “I’m still alive in this time,” she clarified, forcing herself to hold his gaze even as she could see the green specks glowing within, the hint of ectoplasm there that was so obvious to her now, and she wondered if it was always there before, something that she simply refused to allow herself to see because she didn’t want to accept the truth. “I–I got stuck in the past.”

“You don’t look much older, though,” said Danny, and he squinted at her as he tipped his head to the side, and she shivered beneath his gaze. There was something there, something in the way that he looked at her that made her feel as if she were being picked apart. “November 12th? Just before midnight?”

“I–what?” she stuttered.

“The day you’re from,” he explained, and she gave a small nod, not sure how he could possibly know that. “Right. Okay. That’s–okay. That’s so soon and it’s–”

“--how can you see me?” she interrupted, and he stopped. “And I–what happened to my father? At the hospital? I saw you–that he–”

“Oh. Uh. That’s . . . oh,” he whispered as he leaned against the door, and she watched as he slumped down against it, running his fingers through his hair. “You don’t know, then? About me?”

“That you’re a ghost?” Danny reacted as if he’d been slapped. “I . . . I don’t know much. Clockwork wouldn’t explain it.”

“Clockwork? He left you? Figures,” he scowled. “I doubt he wanted to guide you, anyway. He kind of hates you. Why–um–why wasn’t it me?”

“What?”

“If you died, it should’ve been me. You’re my Mom,” he said, and she could see tears brimming in the corners of his eyes even as he tried to hide it. “What happened?”

She sat down beside him. She had questions, too, that she desperately needed answers to even as he seemed to be doing whatever he could to avoid giving them. So instead she went first and explained what she knew. About him coming downstairs to join her because he couldn’t sleep, about the uneasy feeling he had and the explosion in the lab, about how Danny tried to help her, to save her, but about how he was probably dead himself. She expected him to react to it, to blame her or take the news of his own death as hard as she took her own, but instead he snorted. “I’ve already died, Mom. A few times, even. What’s one more?” he said with a shrug, and this time she was the one who felt as if she’d been slapped. It was one thing to suspect it, to wonder, to question it, but to hear him state it so matter-of-factly, to roll his eyes and laugh about it? It was a brutal confirmation of something she dreaded, of something she didn’t want for him. 

“This isn’t a joke,” she snapped, and he flinched, his grin fading. “I–you can’t be dead, Danny. I saw you eating, drinking, and you’re even breathing right now–”

“--I know,” he interrupted. “I–sorry. I know it’s not really funny, I just–” He stopped, letting his hands fall into his lap, and his shoulders trembled and tensed up as he considered his next words. “I’ve been this way for a while now, and it’s not like I don’t know that being dead isn’t a big deal. It is. But I try not to think about it too much most of the time, because it’s not as simple as me being dead, either.”

“What?”

“I . . . The portal. When it started up, I was on the inside of it, not outside of it like I told you later,” he said, and Maddie froze, her mind racing as she considered the implications. She knew about his accident, of course, and living through that memory recently was an absolute nightmare. The amount of electricity, of ectoplasm, of sheer power and energy running through it and what it would have done to someone standing inside it, though . . . He shouldn’t be alive, but then again, she supposed that he wasn’t if what he was saying was the truth. “It changed me on a molecular level. I’m not going to pretend to understand exactly how it works because I don’t. But I’m basically like that cat. Half-dead, half-alive.”

“That’s not what Schrodinger meant, Danny,” she sighed, and he chuckled softly before his laughter died out after he looked at her and saw the dark expression on her face.

“I–right. Sorry,” he said. “But I still need to eat and breathe. My heart still beats. I still sleep, too, and dream. And I’m still aging and growing and still living, in a sense.” He stopped, and then held out his hand, and she watched as a flickering ball of green ectoplasm appeared over it, spiraling rapidly and full of potential, and the light reflected in his eyes, dancing there like an impossible fire. “But there are times when I don’t really need to breathe or eat or sleep or drink, where my body is more ectoplasm than blood and flesh, and where I look and feel like a ghost because I am one. But it’s not as separate as it seems at first, either. Like I can manipulate ecto energy this way and go intangible and fly and do other things that are impossible for a normal human. And even as a ghost I can’t completely ignore that I’m human, too, that there is an eventual limit to how long I can go without rest and food and my heart beating if I still want to hold onto that part of myself.”

The light over his palm flickered out, vanishing as he let out a long sigh, his chin resting against his chest with his eyes closed. “Most of the time, I lie to myself and everyone around me. I–Jazz and Tucker and Sam all know the truth, but only to a point. Tucker and Sam were there when it happened, and Jazz figured it out later. I–I pretend like I’m just a human with ghost powers, that I didn’t die, that I wasn’t–that I’m not–” His eyes opened and he looked at Maddie, his expression haunted. “I don’t want them to know that I still have nightmares about my death, about futures that won’t ever come to pass. That I can sense when there’s a person dying nearby who doesn’t have someone to hold their hand and help them along the path to whatever comes after all of this. That I–that I’ve helped people walk along that path, too, dozens of times. I don’t let them think of me as a ghost, because I guess even now, part of me doesn’t want to be one, or at least, not completely. It’s just easier to be a kid with creepy powers playing the hero. It’s easier to be a little strange than something that I–that you and Dad hate.”

He tucked his knees into his chest and hid his face as he fell silent. Maddie remained frozen as she stared at him, at her son that she knew so little about now, that carried a burden she remained blissfully unaware of except in the way that the smallest of signs bled through, from his lackluster grades to his constant exhaustion to his missing curfew. But there were other hints that something was wrong, too, so many things that she had missed for far too long because she was too distracted and caught up in her own work. 

And Jazz . . . “I don’t think you’re hiding it from your sister as well as you think, you know,” she said, and Danny’s head jerked up, his eyes meeting hers. “I . . . going through my life with Clockwork, I’ve become all too aware of how much I’ve missed and overlooked and how I failed to notice how much the two of you have been hurt because of my obsession with my work. I’m not sure your sister knows exactly what’s happening, Danny, but she’s clearly aware that there’s more to it than you’ve told her or any of us.”

“And your father and I could never, ever hate you,” she added, wincing. She probably should have led with that first, but her thoughts were spiraling, fragmented as she tried to process too much at once. “We love you, hon. We always will.”

“You say that now, but . . .”

“But what?” she pushed when he didn’t finish.

“I . . . I can switch forms,” he explained, swallowing. “I look like this when I’m ‘human,’” he said, putting it in air quotes, “but I can also look more like a ghost. Glowing green eyes, white hair, ghostly tail and glow. And you’ve met me, as a ghost, and you–you hate me.”

“Who?” she asked, but deep down, she knew the answer. She always had, even as she refused to see it, but she still needed to hear him say it.

“Phantom.” 

Maddie rubbed her eyes with the back of her palms - or at least, she tried to. It wasn’t nearly as effective when mostly intangible, but she found she could still shiver. She had hunted him, threatened him, would have dissected him if given half a chance. Would she have realized the truth then at that moment as he was strapped to the table, no doubt pleading with her and Jack to see it? Or would she have pushed it aside as manipulation, as lies and the last, desperate attempt of a ghost to trick them into setting him free once she finally had it where she wanted?

If Maddie could be sick right now, she would be. It was nauseating, awful, and she hated herself in that moment, for not putting it together, for never seeing the truth even as it literally stared her in the face. “I’m sorry,” said Danny. “I–the thing with the mayor and the–”

“--don’t,” she interrupted, and he curled in on himself, her tone sharp and harsh, and she winced. “I–I’m sorry. I’m not upset with you, Danny. I don’t hate you. I’m angry with myself for not seeing it before, for not realizing the truth, for hurting you and for–for everything I could have done to you because of it. You shouldn’t be apologizing. You should never apologize for this. It’s my fault, what happened to you, and it’s my fault that I didn’t figure it out sooner, that I–that I couldn’t be the person you needed so you could trust me enough to tell me the truth after all of this happened. I am so, so sorry, Danny.”

And suddenly he threw his arms around her, holding her tightly as her body trembled and shook as she didn’t quite cry, no tears coming, but did the closest thing to it that she could while like this, and the two of them held each other for a long time, her son strangely solid as he held her tightly and cried enough for both of them. “It’s okay, Mom,” he whispered eventually. “It’s okay.”

“Tell me everything?” she asked, and he smiled nervously at her. 

“I–okay,” he said, and slowly he told her about the last couple of years, about discovering his powers and abilities, about what happened with his ex-girlfriend Val, about the countless ghosts he fought and encountered, but more importantly, he told her about the ghosts he actively befriended, too, who became his teachers and mentors and guides. He told her about realities made and unmade, about timelines where they learned the truth and accepted him but where he was still too scared to tell them who and what he was afterward, worried that once the dust settled that they would hate themselves or him for what happened. And he told her about his friends and Jazz and how they supported him, loved him, and accepted him and helped him come to realize that there was nothing wrong with who and what he was, even if it still scared him and even if they didn’t know the whole truth of what his death and being a ghost actually entailed. 

It was dark by the time he was done. At one point Jazz and Jack and even her past self came home, but none of them saw them sitting at the front door and leaning against it. “Why can’t they see us?”

“Because you’re on the path and I’m guiding you now,” said Danny with a shrug. “Once you became untethered from Clockwork, anyone who found you could have stepped into the role. It’s the only reason I could see you. But we should get you back to where you need to be. This isn’t supposed to be about me, and I’ve taken up too much of your time already.”

It was an odd echo of Clockwork’s own words and it unsettled her even as she didn’t say it. Standing up, he offered her a hand and she took it, half-standing and half-floating over the floor. “You’re a part of my life, hon,” she argued. “This was always going to be as much about you and Jazz and your father as it was about me, too, because there is no me without you.”

Danny laughed, rolling his eyes. “That’s so cheesy, Mom.”

“There’s going to be plenty more of that when we get back. You should expect twice as many full-body hugs, too,” she insisted. “Assuming I can hug you after this. I–I don’t know how I can survive what happens, Danny, no matter what Clockwork might have said.”

“I doubt it’s half as bad as you think,” he said as they headed towards the basement, and as they walked downstairs, his eyes stared at the portal, swirling with the same green light. “Okay, um . . . we need to get you to the right time. I’m not very good at this yet, but I think I can do it. I’ll, um, need to be Phantom, though. If that’s okay?”

“It’s fine, hon,” she said, even as he looked deeply uncomfortable, but ultimately he took a deep breath and held up his hands.

“I–going ghost!” he shouted as a bright, white ring appeared around his midsection and split into two, and as it traveled over him she could see the shift occurring in its path, his t-shirt and jeans replaced with Phantom’s trademark jumpsuit, his hair turning a brilliant white, his eyes an impossible green, and he floated over the floor as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He looked confident, right in a way that she could not put into words as he held out his hands to her, even as she expected to be unsettled by his transformation. But Phantom . . . he was Danny. He was always Danny, and she hated how she could have ever been so blind. “Let’s go.”

“Okay, but before we do . . . I–just know that I love you, okay? No matter what happens,” she insisted.

“I know, Mom. I love you, too. I’m–I’m glad you’re not actually dead yet,” he said. “And, um, I’ll tell you the truth, okay? After you get back. I promise. You won’t remember most of this, but I’ll still tell you. But right. Hold my hands. I need to focus. I’m still learning how to feel the time stream.”

“I–you mentioned you had a bad feeling, when you came to see me in the lab,” said Maddie, making the connection then. “Did you . . .?”

“Yeah, probably. The sort of bad vibe, deja vu feeling is part of sensing it. But I think I just knew this would happen because of what we’re doing now. Your Danny in the present already lived through this part, remember?” he said as he closed his eyes, his aura brightening a bit, and then she felt the world twist and turn around them as they found their way back to the lab, to that moment when her weapon exploded, to her brush with death. Her son remained frozen in place, hovering over the table, as her own body continued its path towards the wall. 

“Oh shit,” he whispered as he let go of her hands, staring at it with wide eyes. 

“Language,” she admonished, and he rolled his eyes. “But it’s not good.”

“You made it,” intoned Clockwork, and Maddie blinked as the ghost appeared behind them, winding the clock on his staff. “I was beginning to think you were lost.”

“You can see us?” said Maddie.

“I started you on the path, even if Daniel helped you finish it,” said Clockwork with a shrug. “But it is time we resumed things here. You’ll need to go, Daniel.”

“But–” 

“--go,” Clockwork insisted. “You are already here. You will do what you always do. You need to trust that this is the best–”

“--possible timeline,” Danny finished, rolling his eyes. “No, I get that much. But how can she possibly survive this?” He gestured at the explosion, the fear and terror evident on his face. “I can’t fix this.”

“Daniel,” said Clockwork, and he sighed, floating over to him and putting a hand on his shoulder. “You have several months before this occurs, and plenty of time to teach you. We cannot undo the entire timeline–these events are necessary–but we can reverse its effects on her, should you wish to do so.”

“But you told me I couldn't do that,” he argued, bristling, and his legs were no longer legs but a strange spectral tail that whipped and flickered like an angry cat’s. “I asked when my grandfather–”

“You were talking about reversing days and years, not seconds,” interrupted Clockwork. “And there will be some side effects.” He glanced at her, his expression unreadable, though Maddie felt herself shiver once more. “But I think she would accept them in return for being there with you. As long as you act quickly when you find yourself in this moment, they should not be too severe. A mere handful of seconds of temporal displacement can be managed. She’ll dismiss it as nothing more than deja vu.”

Danny said nothing, his body trembling as he looked at her, tears in his eyes. “Please, Daniel,” said Clockwork, putting his hand on his shoulder. “We can discuss this later. But right now, we need to return your mother to her proper place before she becomes permanently detached, and you need to return to your own time, too.”

“I–fine,” he agreed, even as it seemed clear he wanted to keep arguing. Turning, he threw his arms around her one last time, hugging her tightly. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, Danny. And I’m sorry. For everything,” she said, and he smiled sadly at her as he vanished. Clockwork watched her for a moment, his red eyes boring into her.

“It’s time,” he said, and Maddie didn’t get a chance to say another word as suddenly everything went black. 

*****

It was cold.

Someone was crying, but she struggled to register it as she blinked, her eyes trying to focus in the dim, green light. She wasn’t sure where she was or what she was doing, and she winced as she tried to sit up, her head throbbing. A gentle hand on her shoulder pushed her back to the ground.

“Give it a minute,” they said, and she turned, eyes unfocused for a moment before she realized it was Danny. He wiped away his tears, his face too pale and almost ghastly in the way the shadows formed due to the light of the portal, and as the thought hit her she realized she was in the lab. She had come down to work on something . . . a weapon? Right, she was trying to fix the power supply issue. And then Danny came downstairs, too, and they were talking when something went wrong, something exploded, and–

She sat bolt upright, eyes wide in shock, and it was then that she took in the ruined lab. Charred and destroyed, tables overturned and in some cases literally melted as the ectoplasm in the cartridge exploded. It stank powerfully of citrus and copper and melted plastic, and she covered her mouth, trembling. She couldn’t–she wasn’t–they weren’t–

How could they possibly be alive right now?

“I, um, triggered one of the portable shields,” said Danny softly, answering the unasked question. “It kept us safe from the worst of the blast. I–are you okay, Mom?” He hovered over her anxiously, obviously wanting to force her to lay down even as they were both impossibly fine. It was such a close call. What would she have done if they died? If her son was killed here today? It would have been her fault, she would have–it would have–

She broke down in tears, unable to help herself,  and she felt Danny’s hand on her back as he mumbled softly to her, trying to soothe her nerves even as she should be the one trying to make him feel better. Why wasn’t he more shaken up? More scared or upset about what happened? And as she asked the question, something nagged at her, a sense that they talked about this before, somehow, even as she knew that wasn’t possible. 

She was about to ask when Jack and Jazz came thundering down the stairs to the lab, the two of them pausing to take in the aftermath from the explosion for a moment before running over and fussing over the two of them, hugging them and crying. Maddie didn’t want to see a doctor, but Jack insisted, dragging her and Danny both to the emergency room to get checked out and confirm there was no internal damage caused by the blast that they couldn’t see. At some point she fell asleep, even though she didn’t remember doing so as she sat in a room by herself, and when she woke up Danny was sitting nearby, watching her carefully. 

“How long was I out?” she groaned.

“Four hours, sixteen minutes, and thirty-two seconds. But who’s counting?” said Danny, and she rolled her eyes as he smiled at her. “The doctors still haven’t been by to see you yet. It’s been a busy night, I guess.”

“Figures. Although at this point I suspect we’re both fine. It would probably be obvious by now if we weren’t,” she said. “Did you already get checked out?”

“Yup, I’m fine. Although the doctor did tell me I should try to get more sleep,” he said with a shrug. 

“Where are Jack and Jazz?”

“Getting some food.” She hummed, staring at him for a moment as something nagged at her even as she couldn’t put it into words. “You okay, Mom?” he asked when he noticed her gaze on him. 

“It’s weird. I feel like I’m supposed to ask you something,” she said, and then frowned. “Or maybe you wanted to tell me something? I’m not sure.”

“I–yeah,” he choked out. “There is something I need to tell you. But can we wait until we get home? I–Dad should hear it, too.” 

“Okay.” She was still too exhausted to fight, to argue, and Danny sat down beside her and tightly gripped her hand in his, a strange sense of comfort flowing through her as she fell back to sleep.

Maddie forgot about his promise to tell her something for a few days, too exhausted and distracted by the handful of tests the doctor’s did to remember. But her mind was whole and she was somehow, impossibly alive, as was her son, with no injuries to speak of. It was a miracle, even as Maddie long ago stopped believing in such things, but it made her realize that she’d been neglecting what was important. Her family, her kids mattered more than anything in this world, more than her research, more than the ghosts. Not that those weren’t important, too. They were. But as she and Jack took some time off from their work while the lab was cleaned and restored by some contractors they hired from Vlad, she realized as she spent more time with her son and daughter that she hadn’t been as much of a presence in their lives these last couple of years as she should have been. 

As much as she felt mostly fine and enjoyed the time they were spending together now, something felt off, too. She kept having nightmares she could barely remember when she awoke, of being dead and of a ghost with awful red eyes, staring at her as a clock ticked too loudly nearby. She felt the pain of an explosion that never struck her, that left her breathless when she reached for an ecto blaster the other day as for a brief moment it was as if her ribs were cracking, her organs rupturing, her entire body burning . . . 

Maddie shivered, rubbing her arms to try to erase the sensation, but it lingered there, just beneath the surface no matter how she tried to distract herself. Yet almost as frustrating as that was the deja vu, the constant nagging sense that she was a few seconds behind somehow, that she lagged even as it made no sense to her. Nearly everything felt like she was hearing it for the second time rather than the first, every sight something she intuitively recognized, every moment something she already experienced, and it nagged at her, at the scientist in her who said this wasn’t right, wasn’t natural, wasn’t merely PTSD. 

And she started to get caught up in the puzzle and trying to work it out when Danny came home one day, a nasty cut on his cheek, and she jolted, realizing that yet again she was losing herself in studying something that didn’t matter, or at least something that wasn’t as important as focusing on her own children right now, both of whom she felt more certain than ever were clearly hiding something from her and Jack even if she couldn’t figure out exactly what. 

“What happened?” she asked, trying to get up automatically to check on him, and he touched the injury with his hand, pulling it away with a scowl. 

He opened his mouth and she could see it in his face, the lie that was about to bubble to the surface, when he stopped and let out a shaky breath instead. “Skulker happened.”

“What?” shouted Jack, and she saw Jazz’s eyes go wide and her face pale as she looked back and forth between Danny and them. “I swear I’ll get that ghost, don’t you worry–”

“--I’m okay,” he said quickly, and then winced as he stared at the blood on his hand. “Mostly. But there’s something I need to tell both of you. All of you, even.” 

“Danny, are you sure–” whispered Jazz.

“I’m sure,” he said, and Maddie could only stare, wondering how long her daughter knew what was wrong with Danny as he sat down next to Jazz. “Mom, I know you don’t remember this anymore, but I promised you I would tell you the truth. I meant it. I–I’ve put this off for too long already.”

“I don’t understand,” she said as Jack put down his cross stitch and gripped her hand tightly. “Danny?”

“I’m sorry. I even knew I was going to have to do this again and I still didn’t practice it,” he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair as Jazz put her hand on his knee, trying to reassure him. “Maybe that’s because you both always take it so well, though. I don’t know.”

“Danny,” said Jazz. “Do you need me to start?”

“No, no, I can do it,” he insisted, taking a deep breath. “Okay. Mom, a few months ago, you figured out my secret, and I knew you probably wouldn’t remember it after I talked to you. That’s how it tends to work, and I guess . . . I was waiting, maybe, to see if I was wrong because of what happened with you and how I–” He stopped, waving a hand. “But you clearly don’t remember. You might have some sort of feelings, some vague sense of something changing, though, even if you don’t know what it was. I’ve walked the path both ways and while I remember more than most, I know how fuzzy it is. You just kind of remember your life flashing in front of your eyes, this moment where there’s some kind of clarity, of understanding, and then it’s gone even if you know it was there and that it happened.”

“Wait, what?” said Jazz, clearly thrown off, but there was something about what he said that resonated with Maddie, that rattled around in her brain even if she couldn’t understand why. 

“Right. Sorry. But that’s, um, the moment. When you were on the path, I told you the truth and promised you I’d tell you again, and I–so–” He stopped, swallowing for a moment as he let out another shaky breath and then looked up at her, his gaze unwavering. “--two years ago, when I had my accident in the portal, I–I didn’t–I died. Um. Kind of. The science is sort of complicated, but the ghosts call it liminality.” 

She blinked, the words strangely familiar, though whether it was from her odd, persistent deja vu or having heard it all before, she wasn’t sure. Jack tensed beside her, his hand squeezing her leg as he spoke. “You’re not dead, Dann-o. You’re not a ghost. You still breathe, eat, sleep–”

“--but I don’t have to,” he interrupted. “I can, um . . . I have two forms. I can switch between them. And when I’m like this, you’re right. I’m still alive. But in my other one, I’m not. I’m a ghost.”

“You’re Phantom.” She didn’t know how she knew it. She didn’t understand how her brain made the connection, why the words were out of her mouth before she realized she was speaking them, but she could see she was right from the way Jazz’s eyes widened in surprise even as Danny looked down at his feet. 

“Yeah.” 

“What? Mads–you–did you know?” sputtered Jack. 

“No?” She didn’t mean for it to come out like a question. 

“You did, once. Well, a few times, but those other ones don’t really count. Alternate timelines and realities and stuff,” he said, waving a hand. “But you probably remember the last time I told you on some level because that was what you wanted to take with you.” He glanced over at Jazz, who continued to grip his leg even as she looked confused now, too. “Um, Sam and Tucker and Jazz knew about me being Phantom and fighting the ghosts. The stuff with Skulker is just kind of part of it. But they don’t know about the other stuff I told you that day because I’ve spent a lot of time hiding it. I . . . I think what I wanted was to be a kind of superhero and for the ghost stuff just to be some weird powers I had that I could use to help people. But it’s not just that. It’s . . . so much more. And I–I like it, mostly. Even though it scares me sometimes. And I don’t want to keep hiding it from the three of you.”

“I’m so, so sorry, Danny,” she said. “That we missed this, that we didn’t–”

“--it’s okay. Really. I promise,” he said, yet another frustrating hint of deja vu prodding at her again. 

“Maybe we should start at the beginning,” said Jazz. “Go through it all together. We’ve got time, I think.”

“For this? Definitely,” said Maddie as she settled in and leaned against Jack. “Go ahead, hon.”

“Right. So a few days after you didn’t get the portal working, Sam and Tucker and I decided to check it out,” he said, and she leaned into Jack as her son slowly told them the truth at long last.

Maddie has a near death experience when an invention blows up on her.  Her soul was suddenly thrust from her physical form and time slowed down to a snails pace as she watches her body very slowly being thrown across the lab.

Death appears to causally explain everything. 

“Don’t worry.  This isn’t the day I take you. I’m just here to walk you through your memories. This is just the whole ‘life flashing before your eyes’ bit. We’ll go over your human existence, a second will have gone by in the real world, and you’ll be right back in your body only remembering all of this in flashes. The general aim is that you’ll go back to your life with a different perspective on things”

They try to show Maddie her life ‘Ghost of Christmas past’ style but during the tour of memories Death slips and calls her Danny.

“Sorry” they respond.  “I’m used to dealing with THAT Fenton.”

Maddie wants to know what that’s supposed to mean but Death is casually illusive on the subject, constantly trying to bring the woman back on task, focusing on her own life

“Huh? Danny? He’s just a guy I know. Anyway…”

“Don’t worry about it.  Lot’s of people have near death experiences. Let’s stay on track.” 

“This is about you. Your turn this time, Maddie.  Focus.””

Maddie only becomes more and more concerned over her son, and Death just won’t give her a straight answer.  Whenever Danny is apart of the memory, she takes notice of her son’s depressed look, subtle injuries, and how frustrated she is watching her past self not react to anything off about her son at all even when it’s obvious something’s wrong.

Often Danny would wander off somewhere on his own and Maddie tries to follow him.

“You can’t do that.” Death explains. “We’re in YOUR past.  You can’t go off to see what he’s doing. You’re not apart of that. If you want to see what the kid is up to, it can only be through moments when you were together.”

At first Maddie tries to do things Death’s way, but it seems like Danny is only getting worse every time he reenters after going off somewhere, leaving her with more questions.

Eventually Maddie can’t take it anymore.  She tries to ditch Death and follow Danny.

“No!” Death Warns “If you stray too far, I can’t guarantee this will ONLY be a near death experience!”

[archaeopter-ace]

Ectober Day 26 - Autopsy

A Not-So Quiet Night at Cook County Morgue

Danny was in a state of panic. He’d been looking for his body for over three hours, and he couldn’t find it anywhere.

He was about to check the janitor’s closet in the science wing for the umpteenth time (he knew that’s where he’d left it; that was where he always left it when he had to go ghost during the school day), when Sidney Poindexter flew up to him looking incredibly guilty.

He leveled a flat stare at him. “Poindexter. You wouldn’t happen to know where my body is, do you?”

“Aha ha, funny story actually. See, I may have borrowed it, to visit my sister – she’s got grandkids now!”

“That’s nice.” Danny’s smile was anything but. “So where is my body now?”

“I, ah – now, don’t get mad! – but I might have lost my grip on it. Near her house. In Chicago.” Poindexter gulped and shrunk in on himself.

“Chicago!” Danny exploded. “You took my body for a joyride, without permission, and you left it in Chicago!?”

“Well, it’s not like you were using it at the time!”

“It’s still my body, which you knew when you took it! It’s my body, which is why I’m the only one who fits in it properly – no wonder you lost your grip on it, if you were sitting in it all the way to Chicago, that’s what, two hours away?”

“Ah, thereabouts, yeah. I am sorry.” He wrung his hands together.

“Sorry doesn’t get me my body back. C’mon, you’re coming with me to fix this mess.”

Poindexter backed away, shaking his head. “I can’t!” he wailed. “Why do you think I borrowed your body in the first place? I’m bound to Amity Park, to my locker. In a mortal body I can stretch that bond much further, but as soon as I fell out of it, I was snapped back here faster’n greased lightning!”

Danny threw up his hands in frustration. “Great! That’s just great. So I’m on my own. Please tell me you at least dropped my body off somewhere discrete?”

“Er…”

[line break]

By the time Danny found which city morgue his body had been brought to after being found smack-dab in the middle of the sidewalk, it was nearly 8 o’clock at night.

He was certain he’d found the right one this time – there was a faint pulling sensation, behind his breastbone, leading him down the underground hallway to a set of closed doors, locked electronically. He phased through.

Danny had never been in a morgue before, but if he’d ever given it consideration, he would have expected sinister dim lighting, unidentified stains, and pervasive cold.

Well, he got one out of three right. The morgue was cold.

It was also clean, brightly lit, and filled with polka music.

A shorter man with wild black hair, green scrubs, and… and bunny slippers was puttering around a body on a metal table, a body that Danny immediately recognized as his own. Yay.

He floated invisibly closer, and breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw that his body was still just as he left it, not horrifically cut open. Well, nearly the same – it appeared that at some point his clothes had been removed. That was going to complicate things.

Truthfully, Danny was uncertain just how ‘dead’ his body was when he left it behind – clearly, it was dead enough to be taken to a morgue, and Sam and Tucker had confirmed that it didn’t have a pulse or heartbeat when he was outside it. But could it be killed? If his body was damaged, would he die?

Not willing to find out, Danny needed to distract the coroner somehow so he could get back in his body and make a run for it. If only he were able to carry his body in his arms and fly it out of here! Alas, physical contact would pull him right back inside, and cut off his connection to his powers in one fell swoop. He had maybe enough juice to phase through the doors as a human, but not nearly enough to maintain invisibility all the way back to street level, especially not after flying all the way to Chicago.

“You’d better not be another one of the weird ones.”

Danny jerked, backpedalling in the air, but the coroner seemed to be talking to himself, jotting down notes on his clipboard. He pulled a thermometer out of a place Danny resolutely refused to think about, checked the temperature, and swore.

“I really don’t need another weird one. Until Dresden comes swanning in here to prove me wrong, you’re just a normal body, yeah? Just a normal body with no discernable C.O.D., with a core temperature of 97.8. A body that, so far as I can tell, is perfectly healthy and alive, apart from the fact that it is actually dead.” He made another note on his clipboard.

“Oh who am I kidding, you’re definitely gonna be one of the weird ones.”

Huh. Feeling reckless and impulsive, Danny decided to drop his invisibility. “Hi. Can I have my body back?”

To his credit, the man regained his composure remarkably quickly. Danny waved, trying to look as harmless as possible. To his consternation, the man then completely ignored the ghost floating in front of him, frantically patting at his pockets until he’d produced a marker, which he immediately put to use drawing a circle around himself and the autopsy table.

Danny watched on, bemused – then alarmed, when the man picked up a clean scalpel to slice into his thumb and drip several drops of blood onto the circle. “Hey hey, what are you doing man?”

“Protective circle, so don’t even try it. You say this is your body?”

“Yeah, so I hope you don’t mind if I just grab it and go – whoa!” When he reached for it he was stopped by an invisible barrier that not even phasing could get through. He blinked at the culprit. “Do all coroners know magic?”

“I’m not a coroner; I’m a medical examiner. I actually went to med school. And I have no aptitude for magic. A friend of mine – a very strong, powerful friend, so you don’t want to mess with me – taught me how to make a protective circle. Keeps out spirits, specters, wraiths, and other non-corporeal forces of ill intent.”

“Right, well, I am definitely not a force of ill intent. I’m just… uh… an astral projection? Yeah! Totally normal astral-projection accident, happens all the time. I’m sure your magic friend could tell you all about them, later, after you let me get back into my body.”

The medical examiner scrutinzed Danny, who tried not to sweat. “Listen, kid. I want to believe you. But this is above my paygrade. How do I know you’re not going to use this body for some nefarious purpose? I can’t let you have it. Let me call my friend, he can sort this out.”

Danny pushed frantically at the barrier, trying to get to his body. Polka music continued to play incongruously in the background. Eventually, he had to admit defeat, and wait for the ‘friend’ to arrive.

And that’s how Danny Fenton made the acquaintence of Harry Dresden, professional wizard.

[nobigsecrets]

writing prompt: a scene or anecdote from your character's life, no longer than 500 words and not at all connected to any kind of plot point or character development (x)

Steve was pacing in front of the arrivals gate at the airport, impatiently waiting for Danny. The plane from Newark had landed twenty-five minutes ago, how long could it possibly take to disembark?

After he completed another round along the luggage belt, finally, the glass doors slid open and the first passengers spilled out into the crowd. Steve craned his neck, looking for Danny when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and checked the screen, half expecting a text from Danny—explaining or complaining about whatever took so long—but it was a confirmation about the two dead bodies at their latest crime scene. A crime scene he should be attending to right now, and why did they always catch the urgent cases when there were plans?

Not that it was a big plan, but one he had secretly, privately been looking forward to for the whole week Danny was away visiting his family in New Jersey. The plan had been simple and straightforward: pick Danny up from the airport, take him home, and then not leave the house—and preferably their bed—anymore for the rest of the weekend.

But no such luck. Steve’s phone had rung just as he was en route to the airport. He’d sent Tani and Lou to the crime scene, and instead of taking Danny home from the airport, he’d take him directly to HQ. If Danny ever made his way through these doors, that is. If he hadn’t left his badge in the car, Steve thought, he could probably bluff his way past immigration—

There!

Finally!

Danny stepped outside, eyes scanning the crowd and it didn’t take long until he’d found Steve. His face lit up in a smile when their eyes met and Steve’s heart skipped a beat.

Steve supposed that his own smile wasn’t any less goofy or smitten than Danny’s, but neither could he help it nor did he care.

Steve took a few steps in Danny’s direction, eyes fixed on the man, and he noticed that something was different about him—

Not in a major way, but something about his appearance—

Not his face, but—

What was it?

What?

Danny came to stand in front of him, still smiling, most likely expecting a hug, but Steve stared at him in confusion for a moment, until—

“You’ve cut your hair?” he asked, incredulous, voice slightly too high with surprise.

“You like it?” Danny asked, at the same time as Steve said “Where is Danny Williams and what have you done to him?”

“I’m the one and only,” Danny said, and then “C’mere, you goof!”

He dropped his backpack to the floor, reached out and pulled Steve into a bone crushing hug. Steve looped his arms around Danny’s shoulders and god, it felt good to have Danny back! Danny held him tight for a moment, before he slowly pulled back. Their hug was over way too soon, short by necessity, and Steve dared to let his hand linger on the nape of Danny’s neck for a few seconds longer.

He couldn’t help staring, taking in every detail: Danny had cropped his hair short at the sides and left it long on the top of his head, the dark blond strands gelled back like usually, but this—

It seemed bold for Danny, giving him a rough, rugged look, kind of badass—and damned hot. It took Steve’s breath away and hell yeah, he did like it. A lot. Steve regretted even more than before now that they would have to go to work from here.

Danny gave him a knowing look, eyes twinkling and mischievous smile, and it took Steve a lot of willpower to not pull him back in and kiss him senseless. Instead, he let his thumb brush lightly over the short hair at Danny’s neck, his fingers itching to touch more of it, but this wasn’t the time or the place. With a frustrated sigh he let his hand fall away.

“C’mon,” he said as be bent down to pick up Danny’s backpack. “We’ve caught a case.”

[suguruswife]

His best work of art Danny Johnson x Gn!reader.

Warnings: Death and feelings.

Gender neutral reader.

Words:3000+

Um, well, this is the first thing I post here so I hope it's not too bad.

I previously posted it on Ao3 (it's still there) but I wanted to do it here too!

Link

I apologize in advance if you notice any grammatical errors!

Summary: A serie of bad decisions led you to the wolf's mouth, although you don't seem to care.

'Good morning, dove.'

You rubbed your eyes to read Danny's message, still sleepy and exhausted. The morning had only just begun but he'd already texted you.

He usually send a 'good morning' to confirm that you were still alive—or at least that's what he always says—mainly because a murderer was hanging around town lately. Danny joked that the killer liked pretty young people, albeit according to the newspapers that wasn't a true fact.

The victims were men, women, tall and small, adults or adolescents. He didn't seem to care, he was only dominated by the desire for recognition and art; his knife being his brush, blood being his acrylic and the dead body of someone being the canvas.

Going back to Danny, the blue-eyed man always seemed to care about you—although at night he hardly appeared to show signs of life—there is a mutual concern between you two. Sincere, thanks to the friendship you have.

You like to piss him off about it and tell him that he was the only one looking for pretty people to fuck, to which he usually replies that if he had a good time, then there was nothing wrong with that.

After arranging your sheets to be comfortable and warm, you took your cell phone to answer his message.

'hello Pine Head what r u doing today?'

'The usual. Go out with some girls and go back to normal hours so mommy doesn't get mad.'

'Ouch, tell them that you still sigh for me.'

'you wish.'

You let out a laugh, and settled into your bed again. Today it seemed that it was a beautiful day but you didn't have the courage to get up. Preferring the security that the pillows and sheets gave you.

Suddenly, you remembered something you wanted to tell Danny.

'eyyy you seen?'

'what.'

'heard rumors that theres a page where you can ask Ghostface to kill you.'

'what?'

'yeah, you can send your personal information and he will see if hes interested in killing you or not lmaoo.'

'Sounds pathetic. What about the police?'

'this is all relatively new, Danny. and even if they were already aware, they wouldnt do anything because they are useless brains. Literally a bag of morons.'

'What a shitty town damn. Wanna meet in the park so we gossip about this?'

'mmmnqnwo yes, tell me what time.'

After getting the details from Danny, you got up to get organized. There were still like four hours left but you can't live in bed and this would be a good opportunity to clear you up and take a shower. Dan wouldn't appreciate a late arrival, the last time he waited more than 15 minutes he almost insulted even your family. The brown-haired man wasn't primarily characterized by his patience and kindness but he was like that, pleasant in his own way.

'Cookies or chocolate cake?'

'Both.'

A smile appeared on your lips, he really can't control his hunger, can he?

'both will be.'

-

"This shit is addictive," Danny said as he ate a piece of cake, scattering the crumbs everywhere. "Would have been better with a chocolate frosting."

"Didn't have time." The answer came out of your mouth, with one hand holding a cookie and the other entertaining with the grass.

"With this you could make most of the Slashers fall in love," he joked, directing his remaining piece in your direction. "Take it. This is the definitive piece, it'll taste like paradise."

You snorted before answering, "Danny, I made that cake, I know very well what it tastes like."

"Just take it, we'll have an indirect kiss by the way, muak muak." He took your chin between his hands as he directed that baked cake towards your mouth. "Don't be shy."

You did what he told you, you took the bite and you felt the same as before: a wave of flavor. Only chocolate.

"Still the same."

Danny gasped pretending he was outraged. "You can't be serious now, I literally sacrificed my best food and in this way you thank me."

"And I literally brought the cake," you remarked, emphasizing 'literally.'

"Whatever. Only I properly appreciate sweet things, dove."

"Why do you always call me that? Please stop, the last time an old woman looked at us as if we were a couple," you mumbled-yelled at him.

"Wise men say~" Danny started singing Can't Help Falling In Love while laughing out loud from time to time. "But I can't help falling in love with—"

"Shut the fuck up. You go out of tune more than my grandfather at Christmas and he really has vocal problems."

"You're so boring," Danny sighed, turning his gaze to you. "Tell me what other ways I can call you, dear grumpy."

"Let me think." You put your hand on your chin thoughtfully, staring at nothing. "What about 'love'? When will you call me that?"

"Love? The last time I called you that, you were a blushing mess," Danny couldn't help but snort in amusement. "What's the problem? I thought you liked the nickname dove."

"I was kidding, you can call me whatever you want, except degrading names, those are reserved for the bed." After saying that, you got up cleaning the dirt that the grass left on your clothes. The desire to extend this moment was deep, unfortunately it was time to go home.

"You don't have to go, you know? I could take you home later and—"

"I would love that but today is Lasagna Thursday, you know I have to be on time. Besides, I have business to attend to," you interrupted him before he finished speaking, you knew where this was going, you knew what he was craving. A moment alone, a moment of peace. Albeit you couldn't grant that to him.

"Alright," Danny said before getting up with you too. "I'll see you around?"

You smiled brilliantly, certainly Danny at this hour was getting calmer, more relaxed. "Of course you will, pine head. Don't even hesitate," you lied. It wouldn't be the first time, the words just slip away, giving a false promise of another reunion. You hoped he hadn't noticed the slight trembling in your hands, or worse, the look of regret and sorrow in your eyes.

But he did.

He approached taking your hands in his, and almost whispering, let his thoughts escape. "Take care and don't do anything stupid." He directed his hand towards your forehead to give it a small blow. The frown was what stood out the most on his face at the moment, and even understanding what he meant, you couldn't help but question him.

"What would be stupid to you?"

"You know exactly what I mean. Curiosity is one of the strongest weaknesses of people."

"Sometimes I wish you would stop acting like a dad, you will get wrinkles," You rolled your eyes feigning annoyance, but the smile on your lips showed otherwise.

"I care about you, you know that," he replied. In a way, his blue eyes deepened when he showed concern. It felt like they had a life of their own.

"I know. Take care, Danny." You kissed him goodbye and headed home. You could feel his gaze, it was so comforting and heavy at the same time.

-

When you got home, you went directly to your room to turn on the computer. If Samantha hadn't lied, then there really might be a possibility of contacting Ghostface.

She had sent you a link that you hoped to be able to access from your computer, it would be easier to handle.

You only had to wait a few minutes for it to turn on. You copied and pasted the link and it took you to a page.

What the hell, you thought.

The screen welcomed you with everything in black. It looked like it had stuck.

Shit, you didn't know whether to think that your computer exploded or if you were just being hacked.

You decided to wait a few minutes to see if something appeared, otherwise you would have to explain to your parents why and how you screwed up the computer in the house. Although a wave of hope filled you when you saw the page was redirecting you to another. At least nothing broke.

But the feeling dissipated as soon as you saw that there was a message where the address of your house was read. The idea that this link was fake and stupid was gone, now the question that was on the screen watching you with impatience.

Is your house here?

Yes. No.

Without hesitation, you pressed no, confirming it would send you straight to the wolf's mouth. People say 'don't get too close to the fire' after all.

Such was the surprise when you saw how the "Yes" box had been marked. You didn't know or have any idea if this was a machine error or if this was already programmed to work like this, certainly it was causing you panic.

Nothing else appeared. You also didn't dare to move from the chair-just in case something happened and you weren't there- and that was until you heard your cell phone vibrate. You reached out to grab it, looking briefly to see if it was important or not, usually hardly anyone was texting you at this time. Curiosity came to you when you saw that it was an unknown number, they had only written hello to you but you could clearly see that they were still writing. Impatient, you returned your gaze directly to the screen and then to the cell phone.

The horror and fear settled in your body like a parasite as soon as you read what they wrote to you. A location, not yours but somewhere else, a park.

An invitation.

'Park. In front of the fountain with the statues of angels. Don't make it difficult and come. You decided to join the game, now you can't take it back. If not, I will take other more unpleasant measures. GF.'

you already lost.

You spent a while spacing out, reading the message until you heard your mother telling you that the food was done.

Lasagna never felt as unpleasant as it did now.

-

You decided it was too late to retract the decisions you made all day; from listening to Samantha, taking Danny's piece of cake, to now hitting an unknown link and being stalked by a murderer who only God knows how many families he ruined with his murders. All those events led you here, you had no one to blame but yourself. So, when you arrived at the park, a feeling of discomfort settled throughout your body. You couldn't help but think that you were being watched. Maybe he was already there, playing with his food.

What would he do first? Try to scare you and then stab you out of nowhere? You wanted to think that you'd certainly not scream but if he came out of nowhere… that would probably scare you to death. It would be funny though: 'Ghostface scared a person to death, new modus operandi?'

You were so deep in thought that you didn't notice a man sneaking up behind you until he put his gloved hand over your mouth.

"Waiting for me?" the male voice asked in a sweet tone, too cloying for your taste. "It's such a pleasure to have a pretty one around here, are you my prey today?"

He waited a moment before realizing that he still had his hand over your mouth, clearly preventing you from speaking. Slowly he slid it, freeing you from that grip.

"So... you came," you muttered as you analyzed his costume. There wasn't much to look at either, it was simply a black cloak and the hideous mask that gave him his name.

"I never miss a chance to recklessly kill someone." His voice was rough and raspy, it fit him well. Almost as if it was made just for him, leaving the other poor men dumb. "I must admit that I've received a lot of requests regarding this, but you must be the first to stay this calm and still. I believe you will be my favorite, Birdie," he put on a tone of false affection.

"I better be. Maybe I'm asking you to kill me but that doesn't mean I wouldn't want to be special."

"Bonus point 'cause you are extremely cute and quiet. But I'm a big fan of screaming too, so if you want to scream I'm not complaining."

You smirked boldly at that, "Do you want me to scream and make a great scene? I can do that." You cleared your throat and prepared to say the first thing that crossed your mind. "Oh please don't kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel," you heard how he let out a laugh. His laugh sounded so spontaneous and familiar.

"Didn't hear a scream in that sentence but at least you were original. I like that," he said as he sat down on the grass and patted his left side, hoping you would seat as well.

You hesitated before approaching. "May I at least know your name?" you said that while bending down slowly and carefully. The most normal thing would be to do everything quickly but what is the rush? It's too obvious how the night will end for both of you, better enjoy it as much as you can.

Ghostface was silent before answering. "Names are sometimes associated with appearance, I'll let you give me the one you think is more appropriate."

"I do not think that names are associated with the physical aspect of oneself but... lemme see. From your tone of voice I think you are someone pragmatic and bold, but I feel this is a facade more of Ghostface than your true self," you paused before continuing, thinking of a name that might fit the man behind the mask. "It would be funny if you were a shy nerd in your daytime "me". If so, the name I would give you would be... Jed."

Luckily you couldn't see him, because otherwise you would clearly have seen his indignant face.

"Are you kidding me? How am I supposed to like that freaky name!" Ghostface barked with what was supposed to be rage, but a little chuckle gave him away, showing that he found the situation funny.

"Well, you never said you had to like it, plus it sounds good. Jed, the man behind the murders overnight, and a great investigator of the local serial killer during the day." You started shaking with laughter, the fall of the great assassin would be completely a funny thing to witness.

"Well, you never said you had to like it, plus it sounds good. Jed, the man behind the murders overnight, and a great investigator of the local serial killer during the day." You started shaking with laughter, the fall of the great assassin would be completely a funny thing to witness.

"Well then Jed will be." 'Jed' snorted sharply before sinking into deafening silence.

It was so strange how today especially was such a different day, removed from the real world. As if this were a movie and not just another event that will take place in the town. Not a normal one, of course.

The biggest clue was that there wasn't a sound, and you barely heard the breath of the person next to you. It felt as if today the insects and the wind had decided to leave you to give more peace to the environment.

Jed shifted uncomfortably next to you, you felt his leg brush against yours. "Are you scared?" he asked. Oh, how you wished you could see his face. His voice said as much as his mask: absolutely nothing decipherable.

"Trust me, I got more scared seeing Chucky for the first time." At this, you both let out a couple of laughs. It would have been a romantic scene at its best if not for the fact that Ghostface pounced on you, dressed as a being of the night instead of one of the light. You still got carried away with the moment and ignored the fact that he had a knife pointed at your stomach.

"Are you okay?" Jed whispered slowly, your brain processed what he said syllable by syllable, as if his mouth longed to lengthen the moment anyway.

"I'm in my prime, don't you feel like I'm brighter today than usual?" you asked wryly. You knew he didn't know you in person, otherwise it would be really embarrassing.

"Must be the effect the moonlight has on you. It suits you very well," he replied while touching your forehead with what you would call affection, however, you didn't feel warm fingers but his leather glove once again, cold against your skin. The touch made you shiver.

"Don't say that unless you want to excite a poor soul like me." Giggles without genuine emotion escaped your mouth. You didn't expect an answer nor did you want it.

Silence came again. No words were needed for now, but a kind of nervousness arose in you. The anticipation of upcoming events unintentionally upset you. Either way, Ghostface didn't seem to like the idea of being quiet.

"Why do you wanna die?" he asked with what in your ears sounded like genuine curiosity.

"Give me an easier one." You rolled your eyes in obvious annoyance, apparently not even the murderers are spared from the lack of tact in conversations. "You wouldn't get it. Also, why would you be interested? You even care when your victims beg you to live? for you to have mercy?"

In a blink of an eye, Ghostface put his hands around your neck in a warning manner, not a strong grip but a firm one.

"So will you just leave like this?" he asked in an angry tone. "Isn't that selfish?"

"Any feeling of selfishness is erased when it's replaced by loneliness and darkness."

"Are you willing to leave your family like this? To leave him?" he spat out those words, like he was giving you clues to some twisted game. Whatever it is, you and your inner self refused to participate.

You frowned, confused at the mistaken assumption that there was a 'him'. "Yes, if that is what is going to bring me peace once and for all, then that is what I want."

"Selfish, selfish, selfish," Jed muttered endlessly, the words spilling out, one after another. "I... You're lucky that you are behaving and have good manners, otherwise I would have gutted you at this time."

"You think I'm educated?"

"I think you were decent."

"Do you think I'm attractive?"

A pause.

"I've seen better looking people."

"It can't- I'm literally gonna die and you tell me I'm like the others?" you asked, feigning outrage. "First of all you point a knife at me, then you tell me I'm ugly; and so do you consider yourself a gentleman?"

"It's a shame that you treat me in such a way, I was just thinking about letting you go and revealing who I am."

You looked for his eyes with your gaze -no luck though- darkness surrounded everything.

"Are you being serious?"

"Of course I'm not!" Ghostface replied while squeezing your neck a bit more.

"Kinky," you just said at the same time you were smiling. "Am I being a good victim?" you asked him with a twinkle in your eye, longing to know that at least this time you're being useful.

"I think you're the best. No other person will be able to fill your position," Ghostface answered without a trace of doubt in his voice. Never in his life had he hesitated to drive his knife into someone else's chest, and yet he still did not understand why his fingers were so tight around the knife, as if they didn't want the monster to devour the princess, having a consciousness of their own.

His thoughts never waver but his body language tells another story.

"Is it a promise or a fact?"

"Both," he said while at the same time plunging his knife into your chest, he felt that you were unconsciously holding onto his hand. But that's fine, he allowed you, after all, you were the protagonist today. And for the rest of his life. Being the brightest star in the galaxy.

As life was leaving your eyes and body, Ghostface took the opportunity to slide his mask a little over his lips. You could glimpse they were shaped like a cupid's bow, good lips.

He leaned even closer to you and placed a small kiss. It was as if his warmth was suddenly focused on that kiss. You would have kissed him back if your senses hadn't weakened so much along with your heartbeat, and perhaps you could've heard the last thing he whispered to you. It was the first time someone said those words to you, but certainly the last as well.

"Good night, love."

Your lifeless body was breathtaking, anyone with a deceptive sight could have believed you were an angel or some kind of statue. They would completely deny from their hearts having witnessed such a work of art. Truly a shame. This is the best work of a murderer. Made by Ghostface, nothing more and nothing less.

[alumbianchronicler]

Danny had a lot of things he would like to say to David Cain. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be getting anywhere near the man in this trip.

Because for this trip, he was tracking down one of his adopted siblings, and he was not going to mess this up for her.

He had been suspicious when Cass had shared the story of nearly dying in a snowstorm during the years she had wandered homeless after running away from her father and the League of Assassins, only to have been rescued by some mysterious spirit she still didn't have a name for.

His suspicions were confirmed upon speaking with Clockwork, who simply smiled, waved his stupid staff, and sent him enigmatically on his way to the past.

Would it really kill the Ancient to explain things clearly for once?

. . . maybe that's why Clockwork was a ghost.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand, Danny needed to track down a frightened teenager who had been trained to be stealth incarnate since she was born, before she froze in a snowstorm somewhere in the mountains below him.

No pressure.

Honestly, it wasn't difficult to find her.

There weren't many people out here; a small village that he avoided, and a few out-lying farmers and herders. He guessed Cass would be avoiding the town, herself, but that he would find her within a few miles of it, surprised by the early blizzard.

He was three-quarters through his circle when he spotted her, the snow coming down harder and her existence a beacon of fear and loneliness below him.

She was dressed for travel, but not for sub-freezing weather. Making a circle above her, he considered the best way to approach. There was a sheltered alcove nearby, with a dead tree at its edge; somewhere she could rest and get a fire started.

Danny let his human appearance fade out a little, becoming something more elemental: shadow and ice and glowing green eyes, and zipped down through the blizzard.

He whistled, floating into her range of vision and seeing her notice him. If he didn't know her in the future, he would have missed her surprise and worry, but he had become quite adept in interpreting Cass' subtle expressions.

Phantom chirped, holding out a hand and exuding safe, protect, warm, follow.

She blinked, likely thinking he was some sort of hallucination, but after a moment cautiously accepted his hand and let him lead her toward the alcove.

Once under shelter of the over-hanging rock, Cass' own training took over, and she had a fire going within fifteen minutes. She took off the wet outer layers of her clothing, setting it to dry near the fire as the blizzard whistled by outside, forming an extra protective bank of snow around the small shelter.

After some time of crouching near the fire her shivering eased. Her gaze was fixed on Phantom, who had remained to make sure she was alright. He had coiled into a ghostly heap on the far side of the fire from her, his green eyes shining bright enough to be visible through the glow, though he kept his appearance more spirit than humanoid.

He didn't expect words from her, not at this point in her life, but he could sense her gratitude as warm as the fire itself, and his Core replied to with a happy chirp.

She smiled.

Phantom smiled in return and nodded before lifting from the ground and flying off into the darkness beyond the alcove, disappearing into the snow and ice and wind.

He wasn't sure if Cass recognized him when he revealed his ghost-form to the Bats a week or so later. After all, it had been several years ago, and he hadn't shown his appearance to her clearly.

The first snow in Gotham gave him his answer, when she joined him on top of a building, looking out over the city, and gave him a mimicked chirp nearly identical to that of a content ghost's.

Danny echoed her, and they remained there for several minutes, content, until a call pulled them back to Patrol.

Short DPXDC Prompts #798

Danny goes back in time to prevent the death of his sibling. Said sibling is in the batfam and the time he traveled to is at a point where they don’t know of his existence yet.