#people are confused about how a yeti could be Phantom’s dad
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hugsandchaos · 7 months ago
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Here’s a list of times Danny has been spotted by the townspeople as Phantom outside of ghost fights!
1.) Laying down half asleep on a traffic light post, no one saw him fall
2.) Standing outside on the street during a big blizzard sipping what people are guessing was hot cocoa
3.) On the roof of Casper High looking at the sky
4.) In Casper High’s library browsing the outer space section
5.) In the park playing with a ghost puppy, who unfortunately kept turning into a large ghost dog and growling at anyone who tried to come close (it’s worth noting that Phantom kept trying to calm him down and apologizing, with the exception of Maddie, who seemed to make the ghost dog even angrier)
6.) Having a friendly chat with a large ghost wolf in the nearby woods
7.) On the street during a blizzard, waving at a large ghost resembling a yeti and going “Hi, dad! :D”
8.) Asleep on one of those couches in the local library with a book on astrophysics on his chest
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echoghost1 · 4 years ago
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The Baldr to My Odin
Word Count: 2300
For: @sailor-toni
Summary: Pariah has recently acquired a son and wants to get to know him better. This is a sequel to Fool's Errand!
You can read it on AO3 or down below the cut
Pariah leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom and watched him sleep. After all the things that had happened in his afterlife, he never expected to find himself in this situation.
Never in all his wildest dreams, and he had his fair share during his entombment in the sarcophagus, did he picture himself as a father.
His son sighed in his sleep and rolled into a new position. The boy’s mouth fell open and the small breath that escaped made his fringe billow slightly.
Pariah couldn’t help the fond smile that graced his features and crinkled the scar under his eye. There was so much he wanted to teach the boy, so much he wanted to see the boy do for the first time.
There were so many ‘first times’ he had already missed.
Adoption was both a blessing and a curse in that way. He wasn’t sure what the child had experienced already. He really didn’t know what things he didn’t know about.
Although that was in itself its own challenge. It could even be fun to discover these things.
Pariah was drawn from his musings as he felt something encroaching on his territory. The boy gasped in his sleep and woke instantly. He jumped up from the mound of overstuffed pillows and blankets and hovered above the bed, awake and alert.
“You sense that too?” he asked.
Phantom looked to him and nodded, “Please tell me you were expecting visitors?” he asked with worry tilting his brows together and mouth into a frown.
Pariah simply shakes his head, “Let’s go see who this intruder is then, shall we?”
The boy nods and floats along in Pariah’s wake.
Once they reached the entry hall they could hear some fool shouting at the closed doors. Their words are muffled by the thick wood and stone bricks but the intent is easily grasped.
“Doesn’t sound like a welcoming committee.” quips the boy, “I was kind of hoping it would be someone with presents.”
“Why would there be presents?”
“Well, I was recently adopted so that’s like a birthday, right? And I was crowned Prince, so maybe a party for that too?”
Pariah laughed good-naturedly, “I suppose a coronation ball could be arranged, but we should wait on that a little. I did raise a bit of hell when I woke up after all. Let them lick their wounds before telling them to celebrate our good fortune.”
“I guess that’s fair.” the boy relents.
“Good. Now, wait here while I greet our unwelcome guest.”
Pariah waits until Phantom has landed silently on the stone floor before finishing the journey to the door.
It opens with a thought and reveals a small band of animalistic warriors. Their bright white fur glistens just like the snow from the frozen wasteland that they call home.
They hesitate upon seeing him there.
Good.
He makes quick work of the small army but decides not to finish them off completely. That’s an awfully violent thing to do with his son watching.
It was also completely unnecessary. He merely needed to show them that he was still the king. He was still just as powerful as he had always been.
It would be easier to let them run away and spread the news than to let the rumor spread slowly if they didn’t return.
He waited until the last of the icy beasts had disappeared on the emerald horizon before he turned back to his keep.
“Were those yetis?”
“Yes? They are the denizens of a region called the Far Frozen. Old enemies of mine from before your time.”
The boy simply nodded before changing the subject. “I don’t see many ghosts use ice. Is that a common or uncommon thing?”
“I would say uncommon. Fire tends to be the most common elemental aspect.”
The pair walk back into the keep and Phantom continued his curious line of questioning. “What do you think I’ll be?”
Pariah paused in the hall and thought, “It’s hard to say,” he paused again and looked down at the boy, “You haven’t shown any inklings towards anything? Wait,” he looked the smaller ghost over, “When did you achieve ghosthood?”
“Uh, if you mean when did I become a ghost?” Pariah nodded and the boy continued, “I guess that was about a year ago, I think? Maybe a little less.”
Pariah just blinked as he tried to process the information. How could such a young ghostling be so strong? He couldn’t believe that something the equivalent of a baby had nearly bested him in a one-on-one battle?
And he’s so little.
Where does he even store all of this endless bountiful power?
And there’s no reason why he wouldn’t get more powerful as he ages.
“Uh, Dad? You okay?”
Pariah blinks and refocuses his attention on his overwhelmingly powerful child, “Yeah, I’m fine.” He takes a breath to recenter himself so he can stop worrying his son, “I just hadn’t realized you were so young.”
Again, the joys and surprises of adoption.
“Let’s get you back to bed.”
“Aw come on! I just had a nap. I’m not tired.” the boy pouts as he floats to sit cross-legged in the air.
That was unexpected. The boy had been so obedient earlier, what changed?
The battle.
Had he been that ready for a battle he now was wide awake? That must be it.
“Have you ever used a sword before?”
The boy crosses his arms so his elbow resting in his hand and a finger to his lip as he ponders, “Well I’ve held the Fright Knight’s sword a couple of times and there was this one time I used the neck of Ember’s guitar to fight Youngblood when he had a sword. Other than that, no.”
If anything was constant about this boy, it was how full of surprises he was.
“Well then let us see how much you have to learn.”
The boy floated upward and beamed, both literally and figuratively, with excitement.
How was it that this child was exactly what he had always wanted despite having never wanted one before he found him?
He was both powerful and graceful. The fluidity of his movements as he flew along besides Pariah as they walked to the training grounds made him wonder if maybe the boy was made for this. Was it his destiny to be a ghost? Born only to become something greater?
So rare and seemingly impossible. He was a perfect dichotomy.
Pariah grabbed two short swords, tossing one to the boy, “Let your training commence.”
===============================================
The pair dueled for several hours. Pariah made sure to hold back just enough to not overwhelm the child, but not too much so that he wouldn’t learn anything.
“I’m impressed with how well you are picking this up.” Pariah encouraged as he went in for a quick counter-strike on the boy’s unguarded left side.
“Really?” Phantom replied as he just barely dodged out of the way.
“I don’t give compliments just to stroke egos.”
“Isn’t that a waffle?” the boy says as he parries
He nearly misses the easy block in his confusion, “What?”
“Oh wait, I’m dumb.” The boy lowers his sword as he floats backward in thought, “I’m thinking of Eggo’s. Am I hungry?”
Pariah doesn't think he can continue this lesson if the boy is so distracted. Although it was very wise of him to float out of range while he lowered his guard. He sheaths his sword into the course dirt beneath him, “Are you hungry?”
“No?” He hums to himself in thought, “maybe if I think about it more.”
“Are you often unsure of your own needs?” he asks gently taking the sword away from his son and placed it near his own.
“Sometimes. I think I just get distracted by other things, you know? Like if I’m super focused on something I literally can’t think of anything else. Bodily functions included.”
“Ah, I see.” Hyperfocus was great for battle, but could easily be an Achilles heel if not monitored.
“Wait that actually made sense? I’ve tried telling other people that but they didn’t know what I was talking about.”
“I’ve felt the same way myself. A good way to keep that in check is to be around people you trust. That way if you work yourself too hard, they can pull you out of it.”
The boy smiled. He had the sweetest smile.
But then he wavered, his body sinking to the dirt below as he tried to steady himself.
“Whoa, I got kind of dizzy for a second there.” he blinked and shook his head as if that would make it go away. Instead, he stumbled forward into Pariah’s waiting arms.
Pariah brushed back the boy’s fringe and noticed he was much warmer than before. They might have been training for an extended period but he was sure he hadn’t worked the boy that hard.
“The suit.” the boy’s breath was shaky as he gripped onto his father for support. “I think it’s still on. I, it,” he stammered and his words started to slur together, “gotta get it,” he was panting now, as if the effort of standing was more strenuous than an uphill run, “get it off. Gonna,” he looked up and his eyes were full of fear, “please?”
Before he could finish the boy passed out. Pariah easily scooped him up and took him back inside.
He took the boy into his bedroom and gently lay him in the nest of blankets and pillows. He ghosted his hand down the boy’s arm. The energy of the armor buzzed and he could feel it as it tried to leech from him as well.
The boy was right, the armor was poison. Donning it was dangerous, but the thought of leaving him exposed seemed even more so.
Especially after they had already been attacked once before since he had been here.
There was only one ghost he could think of that would have the answers, but he wasn’t someone he was ready to see just yet.
Phantom whimpered in his sleep and Pariah sighed. He really hoped this wouldn’t backfire.
Pariah went to his study and picked up the broken pocket watch. He clicked the release on top to open the small timepiece. The glass was cracked and the time was stopped. Stopped at the moment he had been betrayed.
Pariah pushed down his resentment and wound the clock.
“I didn’t think I’d be receiving a call from you so soon,” a familiar voice spoke from the doorway.
“So soon?” Pariah turned to face his guest, “Was it truly inevitable that we would meet again?”
Clockwork smirked that knowing smirk of his, “Of course. Now, what’s the question you want me to answer today?”
“Don’t you already know?”
“Yes, but I do prefer to hear it from you.” he admitted then added, “In real-time.”
Pariah shook his head, “It’s easier to show you.” he led them to the boy’s room and waited.
“Do you really need my advice on this?” Clockwork asked. His tone wasn’t demeaning, just curious.
“I don’t know which would be better for him. I feel both options are equally terrible.”
Clockwork hummed to himself as he floated closer to the boy.
Pariah tried his hardest not to get defensive. He did his best to not attack someone he had just invited into his lair. It was difficult to just stand back and let someone as powerful as Clockwork be so close to his child.
Difficult, but not impossible.
“Remove the armor.” He turned to Pariah, “Unless of course, you wish to kill him outright?”
“If death is the result of inaction, that doesn't sound too terrible.”
“For you maybe, but he isn’t going to like it.”
“He’s already a ghost.”
“True. But he’s also a child, he’s still alive. The living aren’t all that excited about the concept of death.” Clockwork floated back over to Pariah, “besides he’s currently the most perfect anomaly. Would you really wish to destroy that?”
“I suppose that is true.” Pariah easily walked past the other ghost to his son’s bedside. Certainly, he was strong enough to keep the boy safe without needing to swaddle him in such dangerous protection.
He reached forward and through the armor. He pulled the boy up and out of the cursed metal and relaxed with the child.
Using his other hand he waved the offending armor aside with his ghostly energy and placed the boy back down to rest.
Once he was settled in, he transformed back into his human form.
This didn’t make Pariah feel any more at ease but he resisted putting the armor back on.
“Let the boy rest. He’ll be alright.” Clockwork consoled as he hovered dangerously close to Pariah himself. “You know, fatherhood looks good on you.”
Pariah turned to the purple-clad timekeeper, “And what exactly does that mean?”
“It means it’s been an awfully long time since we were alone and I think there’s a lot we need to catch up on.”
Pariah did not miss the coy implications of that statement. He was merely taken off guard by them.
“And what makes you think I forgive you?”
“Time heals all wounds.”
“Even the sting of betrayal?”
“Especially that.” Clockwork’s smile softened, “Now come, let’s give the boy some privacy while we get reacquainted.”
Surely a private conversation wouldn’t be too bad. He had missed the company of the other, but he didn’t think they would ever be as close as they once were.
Clockwork wasn’t one to move too quickly, there was no reason to worry about any trickery or line crossing.
They walked back to his study, it was Clockwork’s favorite room after all, and talked casually, like old friends.
He missed this.
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ayamari-no-goshi · 4 years ago
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Verboten 15 | (T)
ff.net | AO3
Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)
Summary: AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.
Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things
Parings: Danny/Sam
Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances
Chapter 15
It took almost twenty minutes for Danny’s mom to finish her tirade against the police. Watching her flip out on the officers was almost therapeutic, and by the time she was done, he was more amused then terrified. It made the actual interview much easier.
The police were initially skeptical, especially since his dad took the lead on explaining what happened. His childish excitement at getting to chase something made it sound like some made up fantasy, but that changed when Vlad gave his account. With his reputation, they were forced to take it seriously.
The older of the two officers, O’Brian, took the statements as his partner, Kiziah, reviewed the scene for any clues or evidence of how the creature got in the house. Other police offers were on the way to do a proper investigation.
“You’re the one that reported that murder… That was just, I guess it’s two days ago now,” O’Brian mentioned as he glanced at Danny, who nodded. “We chalked up the weirdness of your original statement due to shock, but if you’re telling me this thing is the same perp, I have no idea what we have on our hands.”
“I… I don’t really know if it was the same thing or not, but it looked like it.”
The officer frowned as his partner returned. “No obvious sign of a break in,” Kiziah stated, “but I don’t want to touch anything without an evidence kit. There’s definitely a weird substance in the living room and near the front door that will need analyzed.”
“You didn’t hear anything?” O’Brian looked back towards Danny and his parents.
“To be honest, our family tends to be heavy sleepers,” his mother explained as she gave him a sheepish grin. “Jack can sleep through almost anything, and I tend to wear earplugs.”
“And I am of the opposite,” Vlad stated as he made himself a cup of tea. “However, it wasn’t until I heard Daniel sprint up the stairs and bang on his parents’ door that I awoke.”
“Sorry about that.” Danny winced at he glanced at the man. Vlad didn’t seem as creepy as he had the previous day, but something still seemed off about him.
The man gave him a dismissive wave. “No worries, my dear boy. I believe your actions were more than understandable given the circumstances.”
“Err… I guess you want me to say if I heard anything?” Danny shook his head as the officers stared at him. “I didn’t. It… it was just a feeling, you know? Like when you get a sudden chill.” That statement was true enough. He figured it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to state the more paranormal aspect of it. “I thought I was just being paranoid until I looked down the stairs and that… that thing stared back at me.”
An awkward silence fell as O’Brian took some more notes. It was only broken when Kiziah received some sort of notification and moved to let the investigation team in. They quickly went to work examining the scene and looking for anything out of the ordinary. While they worked, an older man with a scar down the right side of his face took O’Brian and Kiziah aside and spoke with them. Once they finished, the older officer approached Danny and his family.
“I’m Lieutenant Metzger, and I’ve recently been put in charge of the investigation of the recent murders in the city. You’ve probably heard the rumors this is a serial case. Well, that’s true.” A muscle moved in the man’s cheek as he seemed to debate with himself over how much he could tell them. “Due to some of the details, we were under the impression these were ritualistic in nature and called in the FBI for some help.” He sighed before asking, “Is it okay if I sit?”
“Sure,” Danny’s mother shared a confused look with her husband before she asked the officer if he needed some coffee.
When he agreed, he waited until there was a cup in front of him to continue. “Look, I don’t want this being leaked. We don’t need people thinking the police force is wasting money on chasing fairy tales.” Once the Fenton family agreed, he continued, “You aren’t the first one to report something not quite human around the time of the incidences. Due to shock and figuring it was some sort of disguise, we originally disregarded that. However,” he glanced around before he leaned in, “one of my own officers gave a report earlier this week of glancing something inhuman. It actually attacked his patrol car before it vanished. On top of that, I don’t think whatever that thing spilled on your carpet has any sort of mundane explanation behind it.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes, “Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, I’m going to be frank with you. I would like to contract you for some sort of weapon for this thing. From previous experiences, I’m fully aware your… experiments don’t tend to do harm to people, so if… by the off chance, this isn’t something normal, we’ll have a way to stop it.”
Danny’s father immediately lit up in excitement. After rambling some idea, he ran down to the lab to act upon it before anyone could stop him.
“Don’t mind him,” his mother fondly chuckled. “Jack is very enthusiastic about our work.”
“I… uh… take that you’re willing to help us?”
“Oh, absolutely. If this thing is what we think it might possibly be, we were going to do that anyways. But I do need to ask you something. You mentioned you thought the attacks were ritual in nature. I’m not really sure how to ask this, but for those poor people, was there a part of the body missing?”
Metzger’s shoulders tensed at her question as his eyes narrowed. “How did you know about that?”
“Wait… wait, you’re telling me… that thing… what it was holding in its hand…” Danny couldn’t say it. The memory of the blood dripping from that thing’s hand temporarily overwhelmed him. He must have swayed as his mother gently put a hand on his shoulder.
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. If you decide to go help your father, I think he’d gladly welcome the help.”
Danny shook his head at the suggestion. He needed to stay put. It just felt safer with her and the officers around. She must have somehow understood as she gave his shoulder a motherly squeeze.
“You didn’t answer my question.” An irritated edge crept into Metzger’s voice.
His mother calmly turned back to him and returned his gaze. “I didn’t until just now. After Danny relayed his story, it struck a chord with me, and I did some digging. There is folklore in different parts of the US which tells of creatures who steal the life of humans and often a part of the body. If… if that’s what’s happening, then we’re in trouble.”
“What do you think this thing is doing?”
“Nothing good. Throughout history, humankind has offered up blood and other bodily sacrifices to gods, spirits, monsters, and everything in between. While usually the Aztecs come to mind, you can find evidence of this around the world. It’s believed those sacrifices would either strengthen or appease whichever entity was the focus.”
“Maddie, are you suggesting this thing is doing something similar?”
She nodded. “I… We aren’t sure if this thing is trying to strengthen itself or if it’s taking its gains to something else.”
A different memory surfaced in Danny’s mind. “That… when we were being rescued… the… the person that helped us get back… he said the A-listers got targeted for their blood,” he stammered before he could stop himself.
Everyone in the room stared at him. He and his friends really hadn’t talked about Frostbite. They mentioned to the police they thought someone helped them, but purposely left it vague. With how disoriented they were when they were found, the police were under the impression the trauma obscured some of their memories. Well, the cat was out of the bag.
Matzger stared at him. “Are you telling me what happened to your classmates may be related to… to this thing?”
“I don’t know. Maybe? Like I told my mom before you came, the person who grabbed me and my friends isn’t the same… whatever that thing is. But, I don’t know what Dash and them encountered after we got separated.”
“Hmm… what about the person who helped you?”
Danny shook his head. “Not the same person. He called himself Frostbite, and…” How could he even explain Frostbite? He was a ghostly yeti with an ice arm for God’s sake! “I didn’t think he was real,” he eventually stated as he glanced down at his hands. “He was so friendly and helpful. He was so much different than that thing.”
“Honey, you never really talked about this Frostbite person before.” His mother tried to reach out for his hand, but he pulled away.
“I… I thought he was a dream or hallucination or something for a while.” He hoped he sounded sincere. It was somewhat true after all. The fantastical nature of what happen still didn’t seem real to him, but he knew better. “I think he had helpers… there were other voices besides his.”
“That would line up with some of the evidence we have from your case,” Matzger stated as he rubbed his chin. “The injuries of you and your two friends were vastly different than the others who went missing which suggested multiple perpetrators. One of the other boys did mention that he thought they were rescued by a small group of people. I will have to take a closer look at the injuries of your classmates to determine whether or not they match up with our current victims. That should give us an idea if it’s the same thing or something different.”
“Sir,” officer Kiziah interrupted, “we’ve finished our initial sweep. We did have some trouble trying to keep Mr. Fenton out of the way in the basement area, but he’s promised to stay at the one table while we work. He’s apparently drafting some blueprints. Forensics is here and are working on collecting evidence. They’re hoping to talk to you.”
He sighed. “Thank you, Kiziah. Can you explain to them their options during our investigation progress?” After flashing them an apologetic smile which seemed out of place with his features, he told them he would be in touch and excused himself.
After shaking his head at his superior, Kiziah stated while the family could stay in the house during the investigation process, it had the possibility of accidentally contaminating evidence. He recommended for them to stay at a local hotel for a time.
Although his mother seemed hesitant to leave the house, she eventually agreed to head to a hotel after Vlad made a show of being concerned for the family’s safety. It took a bit of time to get his dad to leave the basement, but by the time seven am hit, Danny found himself in the best hotel in Amity Park, per Vlad’s firm recommendations.
After sending his friends a few texts to let them know what happened, that he was fine, and where he was, he told them he’d call them after he got some sleep. Although he wasn’t exactly happy he shared the room with Vlad, the pristine bed ended up being far more important to him than any worries.
…..
Several hours later, Danny woke up to one hundred and three texts, fifty-four missed calls, and eleven voicemails. Sam and Tucker had only one voicemail and call apiece and only a handful of texts. The rest were from his sister. Groaning, he sent Sam and Tucker messages to let them know he’d call them after he contacted his sister.
He really didn’t want to talk to Jazz at the moment. When she was scared, she became spastic, and a spastic Jazz was the last thing he wanted to deal with at the moment. Okay, the third to last think he wanted to deal with. The creepy thing and Plasmius took the top two places.
After taking several minutes to do everything other than call his sister, he finally buckled down and called her. As predicted, she spastically demanded to know if he was okay while berating him for not contacting her sooner. He just let her talk while making the occasional ‘uh huh’, ‘sorry,’ and ‘yeah.’ From experience, he knew it was better to let her get it out of her system.
He put Jazz on speaker while he attempted to find the hotel’s TV remote. Vlad didn’t seem to be in the room which really didn’t bother him. The man didn’t need to listen to Jazz flipping out after all. Eventually, he found the remote next to a message from Vlad stating he and his parents went to discuss something with the police and would be back with food.
“Danny, are you even listening to me?” Jazz demanded. He must have been quiet for too long.
“Uh? Yeah, I just happened to find a note Vlad left. You were saying something about how it was irresponsible for Dad to go running after the thing?”
“Wait, are you telling me you were left alone after everything that happened?”
“Jazz, I’m seventeen. I think I’m perfectly fine being alone for a few hours.”
“You were kidnapped by a crazy man and then were attacked in your own home! Do you really think it’s safe for you to be alone right now?” With that, she flew into a different tirade.
Knowing it would be a while, he decided the TV would be a preferable alternative to his upset sister. He turned it on only to have it immediately turn off. Thinking he accidentally doubled clicked the button, he tried again only to have the same result. Thinking the remote was damaged, he moved to try the button on the machine. Only, it turned on by itself. It and the lights began to dim and flicker, and his breath began to mist.
Glancing around, he watched as a girl emerged from the wall. At first, it seemed she didn’t notice him as she moved towards the opposite wall, but she stopped midway and faced him. She looked human but her entire body seemed insubstantial and almost wispy. Her skin, if it could be called that, was an unearthly white while her blue hair flickered like a flame.
She smirked at him while moving a little closer. “You shouldn’t be here, Baby Pop.” Her sultry and musical voice seemed far away, almost as if it was being broadcasted over an old radio. “Don’t know what you’re doing on this side of the veil, but you shouldn’t stay here.”
“What… what are you talking about? Who are you?” he stammered while vaguely registering Jazz asking him what was wrong.
“I like to slip to this side for some fun, but I might stick around a little longer this time. It’s already chaotic here, and a little more might do me some good. Besides, it seems I need to make a few people remember I still exist.” After appraising him, she gave another smile and headed back towards the wall. “You might want to get out while you can, Baby Pop. Things might get a little hot, and you new guys often aren’t strong enough to deal with the heat.”
“Hey, wait!” He tried to get her to stop, but she just vanished back into the wall. Unsure what to do, he stood in the center of the room dumbfounded until he realized his phone was still on speaker and his sister was calling for him.
“Hey, Jazz, I’m going to have to call you back,” he stated as he moved towards the door. “Something really weird just happened.” He hung up on her as he ran into the hallway looking for some evidence of the ghost.
He barely made it to the elevators when the fire alarm sounded. Not wanting to stick around, he quickly found the stairs and made his way to the lobby as the rest of the guests started to follow suit. By the time he reached the third floor, he began to smell smoke. There had to be a fire. Is that what that ghost meant? Did she somehow set it?
He really hoped that wasn’t the case. He really only needed on potentially supernatural thing causing problems in his life at a time.
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five-rivers · 5 years ago
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Candlelight/Exorcism
Candlelight/Exorcism
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Danny sniffed, and wrinkled his nose. He'd retreated upstairs, but the smell had worked its way into his room. It wasn't enough that Mom's weird friend from college was visiting today (and Mom had picked her up straight from Vlad's, at that!) but she had to fill the house up with scented candles and incense.
The woman called Serena Goodrich had apparently been the 'fourth leg' of the Ghost Research Club his parents and Vlad had belonged to, and she'd been the occult expert. A self-proclaimed psychic and medium.
Personally, Danny didn't think much of her abilities if she couldn't tell what he and Vlad were (she said she left Vlad's because they got into an argument), but she... unsettled him. He disliked her on sight. He wasn't entirely sure why, except for her association with Vlad. But once she started talking about ghosts she had exorcised, monopolizing Mom's time, burning all that incense, and lighting all those candles, he felt his dislike was justified.
He sniffed again, more fiercely. He could just leave, take a flight around town, join Jazz at the library (where she had retreated an hour hence), or hang out with Sam and Tucker, but the idea of leaving her unsupervised in his house with his parents grated on him. True, he was hiding out up here, out of sight, but at least he'd be around if she showed her true colors and did something nasty, like set the house on fire with all her candles. It was a ghost thing.
Besides, this was supposed to be his day to hang out with Mom and Dad. He'd worked hard to take care of all the ghosts and arrange for some of the warriors from the Far Frozen to guard the other side of the portal from unwanted visitors. There were still the natural portals, true, but he'd planned on letting Valerie take care of those unless something really big came through, and most of those opened up near the Fenton Portal on the Ghost Zone side, anyway. Near enough for the yetis to look after them for a day.
Instead, he was up here, trying to ignore irritating odors for long enough to get a head start on his English homework. He sneezed. Once, twice, three times. He groaned, rubbing his nose. He bet that woman had put anti-ghost herbs into her candles, or something. Giving him an allergic reaction... stupid... He grumbled under his breath.
"Danny?" called Mom from downstairs. "Can you come down? We need your help."
Danny groaned again, more loudly, at the thought of having to descend into the smog.
"Coming!" he said. He got up from his desk, and opened the door. Ugh, it was worse outside his room. He sneezed again, eyes watering. He was definitely allergic to something in those candles.
He made his way down the stairs coughing, and glared at some candles burning unattended in the living room. With a flick of thought, he put them out with a gust of wind, and smiled. He was getting better at controlling his haunt.
"Where are you guys?" he asked.
"Kitchen!" called Mom.
Danny stepped into the other room.
That was a mistake.
He felt like he had put his foot down on hot lighting, a current running up his leg and spine, directly to his core, where it transformed into a vice and squeezed. He dropped to his hands and knees, gasping, unable to hide the sudden and unexpected pain. Each breath brought more cloying smoke into his lungs, and his head swam with it.
"See?" crowed the not-so-fake psychic. "See how he's affected? I told you, Maddie. He's been possessed." She sounded far too happy about that. "Sit up, let us look at you."
Against his will, his body shuffled back from all fours to sit cross-legged on the floor. He could see, now, that a circle with a pentagram had been drawn on the tile floor with something white. Paint, maybe, not chalk. In between when he had fallen and now, someone had put candles on each point of the star. Something wet ran from his eyes and nose. He lifted his hand to wipe it away.
"Stop that," snapped the woman, brushing back her long fake blonde hair.
His hand fell heavily into his lap.
"Look, Maddie," said Dad. "There's traces of ectoplasm in his blood and tears. That doesn't happen in normal overshadowing."
Mom looked troubled. "Why is he bleeding?"
"It's the ghost trying to escape," said the woman, dismissively, "to force the host to move. Don't worry, we'll get rid of the ghost."
Danny opened and closed his mouth soundlessly, trying to communicate to his parents with just his eyes. He had never seriously considered exorcism as a way to go, but it sounded not fun and he was scared. His vision wavered with unshed tears.
"What is you name?" asked the woman as she sat down in front of Danny, just outside the circle.
"Danny." The word was practically pulled from his mouth.
The woman looked over her shoulder at Danny's parents. "This happens sometimes. What is your other name?"
"Fenton," ground out Danny. He apparently had some control, even like this. "What are you doing-"
"Speak only to answer the questions I ask, spirit," ordered the woman, confidently.
Danny's mouth snapped shut, and he swallowed. His eyes stung, whether from the the haze of smoke in the air, his tears, or both, he didn't know. He closed his eyes, hard, hoping at least to be able to see better.
He closed his eyes-
And he saw.
The thing sitting in front of him wasn't a woman, and certainly wasn't Serena Goodrich. It wasn't human. It wasn't a ghost. It was a hole in the world covered by empty meat, and it was hungry.
A hole in the world, like the portal downstairs. Like Danny.
Except he'd been added to, hadn't he? He was human and ghost, and other things besides, and this, in front of him, most certainly was not. It was his antithesis. His opposite. Wrong. It didn't lead to the Ghost Zone, to the Infinite Realms. It lead to The Place That Is Not, to the Red Country, to the Unspoken Land, to the Unworld.
Inside Danny, a shift took place. The ghostly part of him was curled in on itself, terrified. His human element was confused, and, frankly, out of its depth. The parts of him that were both and neither moved forward, taking charge.
"What is your full name, spirit?" asked the thing wearing a woman's body.
Danny opened his eyes. "My name's Danny!" he said, cheerily. "What's your's?" His dislike made more sense now. He must have been able to feel this thing under its human disguise.
It imitated a sigh. "This is probably the reason it fixated on your son, the-"
"Because it sure as heck isn't Serena Goodrich," interrupted Danny.
The thing glared at him, then sneered. "Your tricks won't work here, ghost."
Danny tilted his head to one side. Changing his nature had freed him from some of his bonds, but not all of them. "Mom?" he said, looking up at her. "Did you see Vlad when you picked this thing up?"
"Don't answer it, that's how they gain power over you."
"Because I think he might be dead."
The phone started to ring. Jack, the closest, picked it up. "Hello? I'm afraid this isn't a good time- What do you mean, Vladdie's dead?" He froze for a moment, listening to the voice on the other end of the line, then dropped the phone and whipped out an ectogun. Maddie copied the motion.
Not-Serena now had two giant ectoguns pointed at the back of her head.
"It isn't like I lied to you," it said. "This thing is no more human than I. I'm doing you a favor by getting rid of it."
"I'm infinitely more human than you. You aren't what you eat. No matter how many people you eat."
The thing snarled, red that wasn't red bleeding into its stolen irises. "It doesn't matter. I have you in my jaws. I know your name. It's only a matter of time."
"Then I think you've bitten off more than you can chew," replied Danny, calmly.
"Daniel Janus James Fenton-Phantom."
Danny hissed in pain as his core tugged towards the hole. Two ectoguns went off. Their shots never seemed to hit the Serena-thing. To all the world, they looked like they had vanished before hitting it. But Danny was not all the world. He could see, and he saw the ectoblasts vanishing down the hole's gaping maw.
The candles around the circle flared tall and red, their odor increasing. Blood blossoms. Now that he understood, he saw how they were connected to the World That Was Not A World.
"This is my house," he said, through gritted teeth. The candles went out, and the electric lights flickered. A sense of cold fell on the room. "Did you think I'd be as easy as Vlad?"
His awareness spread down and out, briefly brushing the portal before spreading out along the floor. Tiles lit up, cold green fire flicking along their edges, making a rough circle around the door to the Unworld. Mom and Dad jumped back.
"No. You're better. You'll fill me."
"Nothing could fill you," said Danny, disgusted.
"You're just like me."
"I'm really not."
"A door to another place."
That was... true enough. "I added where you consumed." He needed a little more to make this work. "I am Danny Fenton. You cannot possibly call yourself Serena Goodrich."
"What does it feel like, to be a door to heaven?"
The Infinite Realms, as remarkable as the were, were most definitely not heaven. "What is your name?"
"I am Gula, the Devourer! And you shall not escape me, Phantom! I will feast on you and your world!"
"Alright, Gula, the Devourer. Bye, Gula, the Devourer."
He pushed on the hole, and, in the basement, the portal whined, the vibrations shaking the entire house. The Serena-thing screeched and fell.
Slowly, the house, and Danny, returned to normal. He curled in on himself, panting. This was supposed to be his day off, darn it.
He looked up at Mom and Dad. Were those their 'two supernatural entities, one of whom is our son who we love and cherish, just had a grudge match in our kitchen' faces, or their 'the supernatural entity possessing our son just killed our college friend in our kitchen' faces?
Because all semblance of life had fled from the body of Serena Goodrich.
"Mom?" he asked, nervously. "Dad?"
"What," said Maddie. "What was that?"
Her weapon wasn't pointed at him. That was a good sign.
"A hole in the world," said Danny. "What happens when a portal goes wrong." He pushed himself up slightly.
"And what are you?"
"She called you Phantom," added Dad.
Danny swallowed, and sat up the rest of the way.
"How long have you been dead?"
"That's- I- I'm not really dead. Not entirely, but-" he licked his lips, and looked down. "I'm what happens when a portal goes right." He took a deep breath. "I am still me, I'm just... more, I guess."
There was a long silence, and Danny didn't dare look up. Something moved towards him, and he flinched, coming up against the barrier behind him, which, for some reason, was still active.
He curled up again, afraid. He was trapped, and exposed, and the smoke was still in his lungs, and-
The barrier dropped. He tilted back without the support, and almost fell, but Mom caught him and pulled him into a hug.
"It's okay, sweetie, it's okay. I'm sorry we didn't help you more."
"But you did, by not believing it anymore. That took away a lot of its power over me, I think."
"It's lucky the police called when they did, then!" said Dad, far too loud. "The police!" He scooped the phone up off the floor, put it to his ear, and frowned at it. "Dial tone?"
"Not luck, exactly," said Danny. "It was me. I can- I can do stuff like that. Haunted house stuff. You should probably call them, though. And check on Vlad. I really hope he's not dead." Danny coughed.
Mom inhaled shakily. "You have a lot of explaining to do, young man." She sounded like she was on the verge of tears.
Danny knew the feeling.
"Okay, but can we do it outside? Away from all this smoke?"
"Smoke?"
"You don't see it?" said Danny.
Mom sighed, and stood, helping Danny up. "I suppose we need to get our story straight for the police, too. Oh, Serena..."
"I'm sorry," said Danny.
"Let's go outside, son," said Dad.
"Okay."
247 notes · View notes
ghostsray · 5 years ago
Text
@wastefulreverie helped me write a fic (i wrote the story, and she edited my shitty writing into something good) based on a prompt @dannyphantomisameme came up with in the pbs server
basic summary: wes gets captured by the giw (TW: implied vivisection)
word count: 4591
___
By Danny’s standards, it was a normal day. And by ‘normal’ that entailed battling a large, snarling ghost wolf in the middle of Amity Park Park. But it was fine. After a year of experience, he was getting good at these daily fights, and the wolf provided no challenge for him. He captured the ghost with little difficulty, and the bystanders who were watching erupted into cheers. Well, most of them anyway.
“Fenton!”
At the exclamation, Danny reflexively turned his head. Realizing his mistake, he immediately regretted his decision. Wes Weston, smug as always, was standing behind him. Wes turned to the crowd and pointed out, “See? He responded to his name. He’s Fenton!”
For a split second Danny worried that they might listen to him, but fortunately, his worries seemed to be pointless. On cue, the crowd groaned and collectively rolled their eyes. Paulina put her hands on her hips. “Really, Wes?” She spoke with enough expertise to deny his claim since she always watched Phantom’s battles.
With wide eyes, Wes sputtered, “But—come on, that was solid proof!”
“Right,” Paulina dragged out. “Just because he happened to turn his head in your general direction when you happened to say a name that happened to be Danny Fenton’s last name.”
The fury on Wes’s face was almost comical. He gestured again at Danny and yelled, “He literally looks the same!”
A mischievous smile crawled onto Danny’s face. His voice carried a mocking tone when he spoke, “Gee, Wes, I don’t know.” Floating closer to the boy, he placed a hand under his chin and pretended to inspect the red-headed teen. “I mean, you look kinda similar to me, too.”
Dash laughed, lightly elbowing Paulina. When it came to watching Phantom’s fights, he did his best to accompany her. “I bet Wes is Phantom, and he’s just trying to frame Danny to keep his secret!” the jock conceived.
The steam out of Wes’s ears was nearly visible. “Seriously?” he seethed. He held out his arms Will Smith-style toward Danny and shouted, “How can I be Phantom if he’s right here?!”
“Duplication, duh,” Sam suggested. She and Tucker had been observing the entire exchange, straining to stifle their laughter.
Wes growled and grabbed a fistful of his hair. “Whatever, I’m leaving!” he decided. He fled from the park, ignoring the snickers from the crowd.
Phantom gave one last heroic wave to his audience before he vanished from the visible spectrum. A few feet away, no one noticed the flash of light behind a nearby tree, nor when Danny Fenton stepped out beside it. He joined his friends and watched the crowd disperse.
Once they were out of earshot, Sam was the first to speak. “Do you ever feel bad, bullying Wes like that?” she asked. The three friends met eyes for a moment. Breaking the tension, they all burst into laughter.
“As if,” Tucker choked. “That guy deserves it.”
Swallowing his laughter, Danny straightened himself. “Anyway, I’m sure Wes will be fine,” he pointed out. It’s not like Wes was in danger or anything, he was just… a jerk. Danny wouldn’t joke about it if it was actually serious. As it stood, the worst thing that came out of Wes’s wild accusations was some mockery from his classmates.
Danny grinned, kicking his shoes against the sidewalk. “So,” he gestured to his left, “Nasty Burger?”
Sam and Tucker murmured in agreement and the trio finally exited the park. On their way to the restaurant, they passed a bulky white van, but none of them thought much of it. It was just a white van; it wasn’t peculiar or anything.
The next day, Wes didn’t come to school.
Nobody really cared. Wes was known to cut class everyone now and then. Since adopting his obsession with Danny, he spent so many nights plotting Danny’s grand exposure that he either overslept or simply forgot about school.
Everyone simultaneously decided to enjoy this Wes-free time; any break from having his conspiracy theories shoved down their throats was welcome. Tucker even joked that this was like a vacation for them. The day passed, and Wes remained absent, but nobody thought much about it. People missed school all the time! He must have gotten sick or something.
With all his other problems, Danny easily put Wes out of his mind… until later that night. He’d finally managed to find some time to do homework (for once) when Jazz inevitably interrupted his study-time. She entered his room with a knock and held out a phone, gesturing for him to take it.
“Someone wants to speak with you,” she told him. Danny furrowed his brows. The only people that ever called him were Sam and Tucker... and they only called his cellphone.
He spun his desk chair around and accepted the phone. Before putting it to his ear, he asked Jazz, “Who is it?”
Jazz shrugged. “Some adult. He says his son is your friend.”
The only person Danny could think of was Tucker’s dad (Sam’s dad would be caught dead before talking to him). So why would Tucker’s dad be calling him? Doing little to filter his confusion, Danny raised the phone to his ear and answered it. He was taken aback when he realized that he wasn’t talking to Maurice Foley; it was Walter Weston—Wes’s dad.
“Hi, uh,” Walter started, “have you talked to Wes today?”
Danny thoughtlessly shook his head, then realized Walter couldn’t see him. “No?” Danny replied apprehensively. “He didn’t come to school today. Why?”
He heard rustling on Walter’s end of the call and assumed that he was pacing back and forth. “He’s not home. I haven’t seen him… not since yesterday. Out of everyone, I thought you might know something since he’s…”
“Obsessed with me?” Danny completed.
Walter hesitated, “… yeah.”
And suddenly, despite not caring about Wes, Danny was worried. Wes wasn’t the type to run from anything, especially away from home. And if he’s been missing since yesterday, then it was logical to believe that something must have happened….
But Danny didn’t have the faintest idea where Wes might be. He bit his lip and told Walter, “I’m sorry. I don’t know anything.”
Walter sighed, obviously disappointed. “That’s fine. Just… call me if you see him.”
The line was hung, and Danny tried to go back to his homework, but he found it hard to concentrate. He tried telling himself that Wes was fine, and that he probably slept over at some fellow conspiracy theorist’s place or something. Still, that night when he patrolled the city for ghosts, he made sure to keep his eyes out for any red-haired teen. He didn’t find Wes.
The next day, Wes was still absent. Like before, everyone else at school didn’t mind. Heck, nobody really even noticed. Those who had picked up on Wes’s disappearance had decided that he was sick and was spending his days at home. But Danny knew that wasn’t the case—not after his phone call with Walter.
“So you think Wes is missing?” Sam asked. They were sitting at their usual table in the cafeteria. He couldn’t hold it in anymore and had told her and Tucker about Walter’s call.
“He hasn’t been home for almost two days now. What else could it be?” Danny replied and ran a hand through his hair.
“Maybe he…” Tucker paused, trying to think of a good reason for Wes to spend two days away from home. He came up dry. “Okay, fine, maybe it’s a little concerning.”
Danny picked at his nails anxiously. “What if something bad happened to him because of me?”
Sam crossed her arms. “You mean because he chose to spend his time trying to expose you?” she pointed out with a defensive tone.
“Well, yeah…” Danny amended, “but I still feel kind of responsible.” He stared straight ahead, looking between the A-List and geek tables. “Remember that time he followed Skulker into the Ghost Zone to go after me?”
“You think Wes might be in the Ghost Zone?” Tucker wondered.
Danny shrugged. “It’s possible. Otherwise, someone would’ve found him already.”
“So… what?” Sam figured. “You’re gonna search the entire Zone for him?”
Danny seemed to deflate, but then he perked back up as an idea came to him. “Maybe I don’t need to scour the entire Ghost Zone….”
Hours later, after school was over, Danny made his way to the Far Frozen. He found Frostbite inside one of their grand caves and pulled him aside for a favor. Frostbite bristled hesitantly.  “I am not so sure,” he expressed. “The last time I lent you the Infi-Map…”
“It won’t be like last time,” Danny assured him. “I promise. It’s just to find my friend.”
The frost giant pondered a while longer, but he eventually acquiesced. “Very well,” he said. He strode to the center of the cave and stopped in front of a floating chest encased in pale blue light. He unlocked the chest with a shard of ice and pulled out a golden scroll. Carefully, he handed it to Danny.
Danny nodded and thanked the yeti ghost. “I promise I won’t lose it this time,” he assured. With a sound resolution, he held the map a few feet from his face and declared, “Take me to Wes.” For a moment, nothing happened, and he wondered if he had been too vague; but then the map lurched, and Danny’s world spun as it pulled him out of the cave. The Ghost Zone passed in a whirl of green and purple before he was finally led straight to a newly formed natural portal.
Danny wasn’t exactly sure where he expected to land, but it certainly wasn’t here. As soon as he fell through the portal, he was greeted with the distinct scent of antiseptics and concentrated ectoplasm. It reminded him of his parents’ lab, but there was something else here… some sort of coppery smell? Danny glanced around and realized that this was a laboratory. But why would Wes be here? he wondered.
He inspected his surroundings more and found that there were tables with beakers, microscopes, and other standard lab equipment. Metal shelves lined the wall, containing what looked like… ecto-weapons? And in the center of the room...
Danny’s stomach did a sickening flip. He felt like he had just floated upside down at two-hundred miles per hour, but his feet were placed firmly on the linoleum floor. Danny fought his nausea and forced himself to keep looking at the ghastly sight.
In the center of the room was a metal table with leather straps, like some sort of demented operating table. It was long enough for a human to be laid on, at least six feet long. And in the dim light of the room, Danny could perceive the sheen of dark, crimson blood. So, so much blood.
Danny practically clasped his hands over his mouth to keep himself from crying out, an alarmed scream halfway up his throat. His stomach lurched again, and this time he was aware that he might… might throw up. Oh Ancients, not good not good not g—
He was subtly rocking back and forth to ease his stomach, to refrain from vomiting. The soft motion helped a bit with his nausea, but did little to soothe his abject terror. And suddenly, he was aware of nearby voices—both male—speaking nearby. To preserve his presence, he quickly turned himself invisible to avoid being caught.
He realized a moment later that the voices were coming from an adjacent room.
“Are you sure?” asked one of the men.
“The evidence is indisputable,” replied the other. “He’s a living human. One hundred percent organic matter, beating heart, lungs, brain—he only has trace ectoplasmic contamination, normal for Amity residents.”
The first man cursed. “So we got the wrong guy.”
Danny hadn’t even realized that he was subconsciously backing away from the voices until he bumped into a metal table. The force of the impact toppled an empty beaker over the edge, breaking it into innumerable shards.
The voices lulled. Then he heard footsteps approaching the door. Danny panicked and turned himself intangible, shooting through the opposite wall and landing in a new room. He realized too late that he had accidentally dropped his invisibility along with his intangibility when a weak voice prompted his attention.
“Danny?”
He instinctively turned to face whoever spoke his name and froze. It was like a vacuum had sucked all the air out of the room, leaving Danny’s lungs empty. In front of him was a shimmering, green barrier—most likely a ghost shield—and behind that transparent wall was… “Wes?”
Admittedly, Danny didn’t even recognize him at first glance. His usually tidy hair was mussed in every direction, dull and greasy. His cheeks were prominently sunken, like he hadn’t eaten in a long time. Not to mention, his bloodshot eyes were weary and tired, emphasized by the dark bags hung under his eyelids. Fresh bruises were peppered across his skin, mottling his skin in hues of blue and purple.
“What—” Danny’s tongue felt like it was tied in a knot, crossed over itself multiple times. “What happ—why—” He struggled to comprehend why Wes was like this, who had done this. Danny stepped close to the ghost shield separating them and pressed his hand against it, trying to move it through the barrier, but it was rock-solid.
Wes’s lips curled into a perturbing smile. His eyes were humorless, chilling. “Why?” Wes’s voice cracked. He sounded dehydrated, broken… Danny doubted he had drunk anything all day, or… maybe he had spent all day screaming. His green eyes misted over and met Danny’s own terrified, neon stare. “They thought I was you.”
His words hit Danny like a hard blow.
The joke that Wes was Phantom had existed for a long time, long before Wes was set on exposing Danny. But that was all it was—a joke. To think that someone genuinely would believe it….
It was then that Danny noticed the bandages wrapped around Wes’s bare chest. At some point, they had stripped his shirt, which allowed Danny a good look at all the new scars gracing Wes’s torso. The white gauze of his bandages was stained with fresh blood, and Danny was instantly reminded of all the blood he had seen on the operation table. Once again, his stomach plummeted—and so did he. Danny dropped to his knees and scoured his gaze across all of Wes’s injuries (that were his fault).
In his peripheral vision, Danny saw his own hand shaking from where it was still pressed against the shield. He considered turning human so he could pull Wes out, but Wes read his train of thought. “Don’t bother transforming,” he informed. “The shield works for both ghosts and humans—you can’t do anything.”
Danny’s eyes darted back to Wes. His chest crumpled at how broken his classmate looked. Wes didn’t deserve to be in this situation. As annoying as he was, he should never have been mistaken for Danny. Despite his helplessness, Danny’s core throbbed with dedication. “I’ll get you out,” he promised.
For a moment, Danny thought he saw a glimmer of hope in Wes’s eyes, a small light in the abyss of dull misery. But it was short-lived. The footsteps—the men from the other room!—returned. Danny whipped around to find a group of white-clad men holding ecto-rifles. Guys in White agents. Of course, how could he have been so blind? The Guys in White were the only organization inept enough to truly mistake Wes for Phantom, ignorant government cronies.
Danny didn’t have time to prepare when they raised their weapons, aiming to fire. Blasts assaulted him from every direction and Danny did his best to fight them off, using the ghost shield behind him to his advantage—unlike a regular wall, the shield would deflect all of their blasts back at them. However, no matter how hard he tried, he knew that it was useless; Danny was outnumbered, and he wouldn’t last forever. It was impossible to defeat them all and break Wes out of the shield before the next round of agents.
In the end, he was pinned under a ghost-proof net, bleeding in about three different places. An agent, a man with cold eyes and calloused hands, stood over him with a lopsided grin. “Looks like capturing the human wasn’t useless, after all,” he said. He placed a foot over Danny’s crouching form. “We got the ghost boy.”
Danny gritted his teeth. He was out of options, and at this point, he wouldn’t be able to escape with Wes. Sure, he still had the map, but he couldn’t just leave him behind… left at the GiW’s mercy...
But what choice did he have?
Danny glanced sideways and met Wes’s desperate stare. Guilt and defeat wracked his conscience and Danny clenched his fists. He didn’t want to… everything in him screamed not to do it. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Wes’s eyes widened. “What?”
Danny held the map in front of him, ignoring the agents’ curiosity and Wes’s gasp of realization. The red-headed boy crawled toward the shield’s wall, trembling as he fought tremors of pain, “No, no, don’t leave me—”
“Take me back,” Danny told the map, firmly holding onto the scroll. The GiW agent standing over him stumbled backward when Danny was pulled out from under the net. As he was whisked away, he heard one last desperate cry from Wes. And then, he was swallowed by a portal to the Ghost Zone, and everything vanished into green.
It was a matter of seconds before he was pulled onto a floating rock and collapsed on his knees. A glance over his shoulder confirmed that the portal he’d been pulled through had closed itself, meaning the GiW wouldn’t be able to follow him. Even though he knew that he was safe now, he couldn’t seem to calm himself down. His breath was still erratic and his hands—dang hands—wouldn’t stop shaking.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Wes and all the scars that had been marked across his pale body, followed by the image of that bloody table. Bile rose in his throat and he haphazardly swallowed it, forcing it down. If what he thinks happened did happen, then….
One of Danny’s biggest fears that he never spoke about, not even to Sam or Tucker, was the fear of being dissected. After all, he was threatened with it enough that it was a probable situation. His biology was rare; obviously getting him on a lab table was any scientist’s dream. His parents rambled on and on about dissecting ghosts that he dreamt about it too—being strapped to an examination table, crowded by scientists, sterilized scalpels digging into his skin. And in every nightmare, he was always the one staring into the eyes of the scientists, on the receiving end of their knives. Not Wes. It was never meant to be Wes.
He clenched his fists. It was never meant to be Wes. This was never supposed to happen, so Danny would make sure it never would… couldn’t… happen.
He made up his mind, stood from his rock, and propelled himself into the air. He knew the way to Clockwork’s lair like the back of his hand and was there in minutes.
“No,” Clockwork refused, upon his arrival.
Danny wasn’t surprised, but that didn’t make him any more content with Clockwork’s answer. “I know you saw what happened to Wes,” he pressed. “They… they thought he was me. It’s wrong. He shouldn’t have been captured.”
Clockwork’s red eyes studied Danny as he shifted into a child, unchanging. “So you’d rather they capture you, instead?”
Danny hesitated. Worst fear or not, Wes didn’t deserve what they had done to him. The images were burned into his eyelids: Wes’s body mottled with half-healing scars, curled up in a heap on the floor, and the sinister curl of the GiW agent’s lips…. He met Clockwork’s eyes with a determined stare. “Yes.”
Clockwork’s sharp gaze softened, shifting into an old man. “I’m sorry,” he stated, “I can’t help you.”
Danny clenched his fists. “So you’re just going to leave him there?” he accused, more desperate than angry.
“Of course not,” Clockwork replied with a staid frown. “He’s going to be released whether I interfere or not.”
Danny blinked in surprise. “Really?” he asked. Clockwork nodded and shifted into a young adult.
“The GiW have seen that he’s not a ghost. They’ll be sending him home by next morning.”
Instantly, Danny felt slightly relieved, but Clockwork’s news didn’t ease all his troubles. He believed the time ghost, seeing as he had no reason to lie. Still, he couldn’t help remember the blood across the table, slick and pooled across the metal surface. Wes’s dark bandages and his abject desperation when Danny left him alone with the agents. Even as a ghost, he found himself shiver. “He won’t be the same,” he realized, quietly.
Clockwork leaned against his staff and turned to look at the circular time window next to them. Danny couldn’t see anything but a swirling green vortex, but Clockwork seemed to discern something in the window. “He’ll heal with time,” he said, watching the swirling green window, knowingly. “You go home. I promise you will meet Wes tomorrow.”
Everything in Danny wanted to argue, to protest that he wanted to speak to Wes now. That he wanted Wes to be okay now, but he knew that it would be useless against the master of time. Reluctantly, he flew from Clockwork’s lair and (after returning the Infi-Map to Frostbite) returned to the human world through the Fenton Portal.
No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t sleep that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he was revisited by graphic images of Wes being tortured, tools of all sorts ripping him open, searching for evidence that he was Phantom—looking for something that only Danny had. He saw Wes pressed against the floor, clutching his bandages, and shaking as he bled. He twisted and turned until finally he couldn’t ignore the sunlight breaking through his curtains.
Normally, Danny flew to school, but something compelled him to walk today. Since it was earlier than usual and Sam and Tucker probably weren’t awake yet, he figured he’d walk alone. His body moved on autopilot, his legs carrying him mechanically to the direction of Casper High.
At least, he thought it was the direction of Casper High. He managed to deceive himself for a while until finally he looked up and found himself standing in front of Wes’s apartment building.
And there, sitting on the doorstep, was Wes.
Danny inhaled sharply. That action must have alerted Wes to his presence because seconds later the broken red-head lifted his head to meet Danny’s eyes. Danny lost himself in the emptiness of Wes’s eyes and realized that they looked just as tired as they had in the GiW facility.
“You’re okay,” Danny managed to say. Even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true. After what he figured had happened to Wes, he was certain that he could never be okay. Who could?
Wes must have been thinking the same thing, but he kept his silence. His demeanor darkened and he growled, “No thanks to you.”
Danny gulped. “I’m sorry,” he expressed. His apology was heartfelt, but it did little to express his desire that none of this should have happened. He moved closer to Wes, who kept his posture still and guarded. “I didn’t want to leave you behind, but there was nothing I could do, and…” he trailed off and bit his lip. What could he possibly say to make up for leaving him? For any of this screwed up situation? He didn’t know, he couldn’t think. Staying up all night had stolen any coherent apology he might have been able to scrounge up. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, softly.
Wes’s eyes were glued to him, yet dark and unreadable. “Sorry for not trying harder, or for getting me into this mess in the first place?” he ground out.
Danny winced. “I—I never meant to… but you know I had to keep my identity a secret.”
“So you’re glad they caught me instead of you?”
Danny’s eyes widened. “No! Of course not—”
Wes cut him off by standing up. Danny didn’t miss the way that he winced when he moved, pulling himself to his feet. This time when Wes looked into Danny’s eyes, he didn’t mask his pain—Danny could sense his unfiltered agony and cringed.
“I told them I wasn’t a ghost,” Wes began, “but they didn’t believe me. Even after they ran all their tests, they thought I must be hiding my ghostliness in some way,” he emphasized bitterly. “So they…” A lump formed in Wes’s throat, and he turned his gaze to the sidewalk, letting his eyes roam across the sparkly concrete. He took a shaky breath, one so soft that Danny wasn’t sure he could’ve heard without his enhanced senses. He looked back to Danny and whispered, “They cut me up.”
Danny fell silent. He didn’t know what to say. After all, who could even respond to that? All he could do was watch, paralyzed, as Wes sniffled and wiped away a stray tear.
“It doesn’t matter,” the red-head finally decided. “They know now.”
That admission snapped Danny out of his guilt-ridden haze. “Know what?” He had a suspicion… but no. Not that. They couldn’t know that.
“I told them, of course,” Wes nonchalantly explained. “That you’re Phantom. They didn’t listen at first, but after realizing it wasn’t me, well… they did.”
Suddenly, Danny grew aware of the white van in his peripheral vision. A door slid open and men started stepping out of it, armed with guns aimed at the two of them. He knew, now, why Wes was sitting on the doorstep out in the open. They had been counting on his arrival. Wes was bait—and he had fallen for their trap. He felt his heartbeat accelerate, yet he didn’t look away from the broken boy standing before him.
“They were probably listening to our conversation,” Wes stated, eyeing the agents behind Danny. “If they had any doubts about what I told them, they’re gone now.”
The weapons whined as they charged. White boots crunched against gravel as they approached, closer and closer—
And Wes smiled, his first real smile since he had been taken. “You should run now,” he suggested. “I wouldn’t want you to go through what I did.”
Danny ducked at the perfect moment, barely avoiding getting shot. He felt the blasts from the weapons soar where his head had been a split second before and whipped around. He eyed the agents that were surrounding him, doing nothing to mask the fiery green glow in his eyes. It was too late. They know now, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
They know.
With one last glance at Wes, Danny turned himself invisible and kicked off the ground, using what limited flight he had in human form. Wes was right, he had to run—because once they caught him, it would be all over. He’d end up just like Wes, but they wouldn’t let him go. They’d keep him and use him as their sick little lab rat until he finally died.
He had to run… had to… run.
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