A/N: This started out as a story idea after I watched Phantom Planet, but I never got around writing it down. Then I decided to use the idea for a one shot for my drabble collection, but it got too long for that, so I'm posting it separately. So this is neither a full fledged story, nor a proper one shot, more like an extended one shot.
I named this 'Part 1', because I intend to write a part 2 for this. Not anytime soon though, I should be working on the next chapter for 'The House', which will be delayed. And yes, this is me getting sidetracked.
Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.
SHATTERED
Part 1
Danny looked at his suitcase laying open on his bed, the various clothing thrown in haphazardly as if he was in a hurry. Which he wasn't, he reminded himself for the fiftieth time, he shouldn't get this nervous every time they asked something of him. After all, they asked. Nicely. He was in charge here, he didn't have to hurry, they could wait.
With a sigh, he let himself drop on his bed, next to his suitcase, and he put his hands behind his head. Taking a deep breath, he tried to relax, willing the tension from his muscles while letting his feet dangle over the edge of the bed. His mind wouldn't let go, however.
The past month had been hectic, to put it mildly. Ever since he had saved the entire planet from the disastroid, he had become some sort of icon, a hero, and although it was nice that people appreciated him for once, he wished they would leave him alone so he could get on with his life.
The door to his room opened and someone entered the room, closing it softly behind her. He knew it was her immediately, and he realized with a shock that that was nothing new either; he had always known when she was near.
"Hello, girlfriend," he said, without looking up.
He heard her move closer and then felt the bed move, as if she sat down on it, on the other side of the suitcase. Turning his head, he opened his eyes to look at her. She was indeed sitting on the bed, cross legged, with her chin on her hands and her elbows resting on her knees, the suitcase between them.
"You done packing yet?" She asked.
He shook his head, staring at her until she started fidgeting.
"Why are you looking at me like that... umpff!"
He suddenly pushed the suitcase from the bed, causing it to land on the floor with a thud, grabbed her behind her neck and pulled her close in a passionate kiss. In her surprise she toppled over and fell on top of him, and he took advantage of that immediately by tightly wrapping his arms around her.
A wonderful warm feeling came over him and he finally felt himself relax as she returned his kiss, somehow feeling his need for comfort. The change in him had astounded everybody, including himself. She boosted his confidence, when she was near he could face anything. The day she had confessed her love for him, the day she had become his girlfriend, the clumsy, shy, awkward boy had left, leaving in his place an older, more self assured and mature boy who no longer had to hide who he really was.
Which was why it sucked that she wouldn't accompany him on his trip.
He finally let go of her and she looked at him, blinking, then smiling. She pushed herself off him, tugging at her top to straighten herself. He sat up too and looked down at his overturned suitcase, his clothes now scattered next to and under the bed. With a sigh, he let himself drop on his knees, turned the suitcase upright, and threw everything that had fallen out in there again. Sam pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees, watching him.
"Got your toothbrush?" she asked.
"Toothbrush, right," he muttered and stalked away to the bathroom, returning moments later with the missing item.
"Underwear?"
Danny blushed, moved to his dresser, and pulled out the top drawer to retrieve a sizable amount of boxer shorts, which he quickly stuffed into the suitcase to prevent Sam from closely examining them. She smirked at him.
"Socks? Pants? Shirts?"
"Yeah, yeah, got all that. And my Dumpty Humpty CDs. What are you, my mother?"
"Your mother," Sam said, "Is downstairs, frantically working to finish her latest invention, so she can test it out on you before you leave."
Danny groaned. After the initial shock had worn off, his parents had easily accepted him for what he was, his father going as far as to suggest Danny could be his sidekick. Danny had played along with him to keep the peace, dutifully chasing after his father when he went on a wild goose chase whenever there was a ghost sighting. Of which there were a lot lately, though about ninety percent of them were false.
His mother... his mother had seemed like her usual self at first, gushing over him, worrying when he was in a ghost fight, backing cookies while working on her inventions. But then he had caught her staring at him while he was eating, taking notes in a notebook which had his name on it in a large print. Or she would ask for a blood sample, or an ectoplasm sample. She had him transform in front of some detection device, muttering to herself as the two rings separated around his waist. He had felt distinctly uncomfortable then. She reminded him of Jazz.
Danny closed his suitcase, straightened, and held out his hand to Sam. She took his hand and let him pull her off the bed. He then picked up the suitcase in one hand, wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, and together they squeezed through the door.
Halfway down the stairs they were met with an excited Maddie, who yanked his suitcase from his hand and dragged him down with her, making him having to let go of Sam. He looked back at her, rolled his eyes, and she started laughing at the annoyed expression on his face. He let his mother pull him down all the way into the lab, passing the protesting Guys in White standing guard at the front door so the press wouldn't come in. The GIW acted as a body guard these days, an unfortunate necessity, as the press and the hordes of fans all wanted a piece of him. If he could go invisible all day he would have, but first of all he didn't have the energy for it and second the fans and press were chasing Sam as well, and she didn't have that option.
His mother placed him against the wall in the basement, stepped back, and looked at him approvingly. She grabbed a device from the table nearby and pointed it at him. Danny cringed.
"Make one of those ecto balls, dear," she said, staring at the display of the device. It was brown and square and actually looked like a shoe box with antennae, which it probably was.
He did as she asked and saw her frown.
"Can you make it bigger?"
His mouth twitched, but he complied, concentrating for a moment to increase the power going into the ecto ball, making it glow brighter.
"Hmmm," she said.
Danny just stood there, his back against the wall, directing a small part of his spectral energy towards the ball, which now had a diameter of about a foot. His mother started scribbling in her notebook, every now and then glancing at the display of the device she was holding.
"Mom?"
"Yes dear?" she asked, without so much as looking up.
"Can I go now?"
This time she did look up, smiled and put her notebook down. Danny let go of the ecto ball and it dissipated into nothingness, leaving only a slight smell of ozone in the lab, the same smell that came from the ghost portal when it was open. He looked behind her, but it was safely closed now.
"Oh sweetie," his mother said, "You must think we think you're some kind of guinea-pig."
"No, mom, it's just..."
She silenced him with a hug and he hesitantly returned it, wrapping her arms around her and burying his face into her shoulder. They stood like that for a short while, and then Danny awkwardly pushed her away from him, glancing at the stairs.
"Um...I'd better go, they're waiting for me," he said.
Danny stepped away from the bright studio lights, smiling pleasantly until he was out of sight from the cameras. The smile dropped from his face, to be replaced by a vague, noncommittal expression, and a bored look in his eyes. The interview would have been fun, in fact it had been fun in the beginning, but after answering the same set of questions for the fifteenth time, he was starting to feel like a robot, forever repeating the same phrases over and over again.
Yes, he was half boy, half ghost. No, he wasn't going to demonstrate a transformation, they'd have to take his word for it. Yes, he was still in high school, and yes he still wanted to graduate. No, he didn't have any ghosts for friends, and yes, miss Manson was still his girlfriend. And so forth.
He never gave any demonstrations of what he could do, on the advice from the GIW. Let them see you be normal, they'd said, act normal, try not to remind them of what you really are. He sometimes wondered what it was they thought he was. Something dangerous, not human, something ghostly. But they never said anything about it, in fact, they were very courteous, impeccably polite, holding doors for him, leading him from one place to the next. They stayed in hotel rooms next to him, and screened all visitors for him, saving him from the embarrassment of finding another fan girl in his bed that had sneaked by them by posing as a chambermaid.
It wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't just come out of the shower and had stepped into the room, wearing nothing but a towel. His scream had brought the GIW running, and they had escorted the fuming girl out of the room after supplying her with a bathrobe, courtesy of the hotel.
Talking to Sam later that evening he had laughed about it, although he was glad she couldn't see his blush, when he had described the scene, him standing there with his mouth open, the girl clutching the blankets close to her chin, the GIW with their guns drawn. He had thought she would have found it funny too, but she didn't. They'd said goodnight without the usual fluffy talk that time. Later he thought he probably shouldn't have talked about the girl's curly brown hair, which had looked rather nice.
And now he was standing here behind the set, where people were bristling past him, shooting curious glances at him, but other than that leaving him alone. Agent K walked up to him, wearing what posed as a pleasant smile, his broad shoulders making room for Danny.
"Where to now, sir?" he asked politely.
Danny sighed. He still wasn't quite used to the fact they acted like his man servants the whole time, after hunting him down mercilessly for over two years. But the big man's presence was very reassuring. He and his colleagues kept the crowds away, made all the necessary arrangements, booked the interviews and hotels, and were in general in control of everything. Including my life, Danny thought bitterly. He pointed at his face.
"This stuff needs to come off. And then back to the hotel, I guess."
The white clad agent nodded, and fell into step behind him as he made his way to the makeup department. As the lady was removing the makeup, the agent cleared his throat.
"Mrs Graham from the GIW research department would like to have another word with you," he said.
Danny closed his eyes. More tests. As if his parents hadn't done tons of tests already. If he was honest with himself, he had been glad to get away from them, their endless fiddling with their inventions, calling him whenever they wanted something tested. But only if he was very honest with himself.
The GIW, however, had their own set of tests, and after his initial protests that his parents had already done most of it, he'd let them go ahead, resignedly, unable to argue them when they said that if his parents had already done them, there was no harm in doing them again for them. After all, they protected him.
Riding the car back to the hotel, he let his mind wander, looking outside at the lights of the city passing by, brightly lit shop windows, streetlights, blinking neon signs reflecting in the windshields of the parked cars, promising things he was too young for. He felt tired, his life out of control, even though everything seemed to be in control. In control by the GIW, not him. Yet, he had asked for this, their protection, their advice. Do this, they'd said, do the interviews once, give them what they want, then afterwards they'll leave you alone. They just hadn't mentioned how many interrogations he had subject himself to, in how many stupid shows he had to appear, how may newspapers wanted to do an in-depth interview with him.
He smiled when he thought about the one point of light in the day: talking on the phone with Sam. She was the one who kept him going, kept him sane. They talked for an hour each night, talking about anything and everything, although lately he had let her do most of the talking. She saw most of the interviews anyway, there wasn't much to tell about it, so she talked about school, what was going on there, about Dash and Paulina who'd had a row because Dash used to stuff Danny into his locker all the time.
They got out at the hotel and rushed right in, and Danny noticed to his great satisfaction that there didn't seem to be as many reporters standing at the entrance as there used to be. Maybe they were losing interest. It had been three weeks after all, there was only so much Danny Phantom people could take before it got boring. But still, there were many of those vultures left, hoping to see him do something unusual. In the beginning he had considered blasting their cameras, but fortunately he had been able to restrain himself. That would not have gone over well.
The hotel was nice, as hotels go. Lots red carpeting, lots of chrome, polished until it shone, snobby receptionists that looked at Danny somewhat disdainfully. Danny didn't mind though. It was better than the adoring fan girl gaze. Although that brunette in his room... He quickly cut off that line of thought. Sam wouldn't be pleased.
They rode the elevator to the fifth floor, and Danny let the GIW agents get out first, as usual, to scan the hallway. Signaling an all clear, they rushed to his room, and the GIW opened it with Danny's key card. Inside, Mrs Graham was already waiting, her small suitcase laying open on the bed, the arms of her blouse rolled up to her elbows. She looked very businesslike in her white skirt and white blouse, her hair in a bun, prim glasses on her nose. The only dissonant in her appearance were her red shoes.
Danny stared at the shoes. For some reason, they fascinated him. Why was she wearing these blood red shoes? Did she feel she needed to distinguish herself from the Guys in White? Was she a Girl in White? Were the red shoes symbolism for some weird, Frankensteinish experiments? He was so caught up in his fantasy he almost missed it when she spoke.
"...up your sleeves?"
"Huh?"
"Mr Fenton, please roll up your sleeves."
He sighed, sat on the bed, and obediently rolled up his sleeves. It was best to just let her go ahead and let her measure whatever she wanted to measure, that way she would be out of there in a matter of minutes, and he could go and call Sam. He watched as she applied what seemed like electrodes to his left arm, and then his right arm, and he looked longingly at the telephone that was standing next to the bed.
A painful shock went through him and he jerked violently on the bed, almost falling off, biting back a cry. It stopped instantly, leaving a tingling feeling in his arms.
"What the hell!" he yelled, jumping up and tearing the electrodes from his arms.
Mrs Graham didn't look up from the device she was holding, studying the readouts on it while furrowing her brow.
"Very good," she said, retrieving the electrodes from the floor, and putting everything back in her suitcase.
"Are you nuts!" Danny yelled, rubbing his arms, "That hurt!"
She looked at him, a surprised expression on her face.
"I did warn you it might sting a little," she said.
Danny stared. He hadn't heard her say anything, but he had been so distracted by his thoughts of Sam it could very well be that he had missed it. Suddenly, he started wishing he was home, with his parents, who would make sure he wasn't hurt, who weren't so uncaring about how he felt, who didn't thoughtlessly shock him, just to get some readings. Now he did feel like a guinea-pig.
Mrs Graham was done packing her things, and she closed her suitcase. The two GIW that had entered the room with him had finished checking everything – not that there was much to check, just the room and the bathroom. The three of them stood silently, waiting for him to dismiss them. He waved his hand at them, annoyed by their attentiveness, still a little crept out by their presence, and they turned to leave.
Just before leaving the room, however, Mrs Graham turned around.
"I almost forgot," she said, holding the knob of the door, "A Ms Manson called. She said not to wait for her, because she wouldn't be home tonight."
Danny rushed to the door she was about to close. "Wait! What exactly did she say? Where did she say she was going?"
He caught the door just before it shut, and yanked it open again. Mrs Graham paused for a moment, already half turned to walk away from him.
"I really don't know," she said, "I got the impression she was going out, but I may be mistaken. Goodnight, Mr Fenton."
She turned and left, and Danny slowly closed the door, letting it fall shut with a soft click. Then he leaned against it, pressing his head against the cool wood, closing his eyes. He had already been feeling miserable, and he had looked forward to talking to Sam, who would cheer him up as she always did. And now she deserted him too.
In a flash of anger he punched the door with a loud bang that undoubtedly could be heard through the entire hallway, but he didn't care. Nobody seemed to care anymore, his father with his self-absorbed ghost hunting, his mother, scribbling in her notebook about him, his sister trying to analyze him for some school paper. The GIW, with their stupid attentiveness that didn't convey so much as an ounce of sympathy.
Then he chided himself. Sam had been there for him every night in the past three weeks. She was entitled to do something for herself every now and then, he shouldn't be selfish. Then he wondered who she was going out with.
Danny pointed his index finger at the target, concentrated for a moment, and let a small blast erupt from it, neatly hitting the target in the middle. The two soldiers beside him were furiously scribbling in their notebooks, writing everything down, while another one stood a little to the left, holding a camera.
"Very good," Gary Stoker said to him.
Danny grinned at the sergeant standing next to him. He hadn't really wanted to come here to demonstrate what he could do with his powers, but he had his pride. All those years of target practicing showed as he punctured each target right in the middle, while they placed them further and further away from him.
He had been reluctant to transform in front of an audience, and Gary had understood, taking him apart and suggesting he should change right there in front of him and then go back as Danny Phantom for the demonstration.
And now he was standing next to the man, watched from a distance by general Morton and several other high placed officers. He had already shown them intangibility and invisibility, and had formed several ice sculptures in front of their baffled faces. It had actually been kind of fun.
The thing that they were most interested in, however, being military men, was his ghost ray. They studied that with great interest, and Danny was starting to feel a little uncomfortable with it. It was like they were trying him out, as if they wanted to use him for their own purposes.
"Can you increase the power?" Gary asked him.
Danny sighed. They wanted to see destruction. He wasn't sure he was prepared to show them that just yet.
He raised his whole hand, making a fist and pointed it at the nearest target. Then he let go of a short, more powerful blast and the wooden target was instantly incinerated. Gary's mouth fell open, and Danny grinned a little. Until now, he had shown them only party tricks. This was the real thing. This was what he used to fight ghosts.
"That's...," Gary said, "That's awesome."
He glanced in the direction of the general, who nodded. Gary raised his hand and somebody drove an old, battered car onto the practice grounds, parked it in front of the other target, jumped out of the car, and ran away like his life depended on it.
"How about that car," Gary said.
Danny hesitated. Blowing up targets was one thing. Somehow, blowing up an entire car, although he had done it before unintentionally in the past, seemed to take it all a step further.
"Come on," Gary said, smiling at him, "It's just an old car wreck. We got it from the dump down the road."
Danny looked at the car. It was quite a distance away from him, and he knew he could hit it with a small blast, but more powerful blasts were not so precise. And he'd need to use a lot of power to blow the thing up, which sounded like fun now that he thought about it. Didn't they blow up cars for movies all the time? This was no different.
"Oh, alright," he said and raised both his hands, holding them close to his body.
For a moment he let the energy gather in his fists, making them glow bright green, and then he thrust them forward, letting go of the most powerful ecto beam he could come up with.
The car disappeared in a huge, bright glowing white sphere, and then it exploded in an orange ball, scattering debris all over the area. When it settled down, everybody was silent, staring at the crater where the car had been. Danny grinned happily, still a little giddy from the amount of power he'd used.
He watched as Gary and the other soldiers carefully approached the burning car wreck in the middle of the crater, and then he turned to look at the general, who stood a little further away from it all. He looked straight into the eyes of the man, and suddenly the giddy feeling was gone.
Danny shivered, and looked away again. Suddenly, he was worried. The amount of power he had used had been over the top. He should have just blasted it, harming it a little, and then say that that was the best he could do. To show off his powers like that... could be a mistake. They'd want more, and he wasn't sure he could handle more. Something had clicked in his head when he let go of that blast, and he wondered if he was crossing some kind of threshold he shouldn't be crossing.
"But I didn't do anything!"
Danny pressed the telephone against his head, staring out of the window of his hotel room. Yet another city, another set of interviews and public appearances, another series of officials who wanted to meet him, people whose faces became blurs as he smiled and shook hands. The darkness outside somehow seemed perpetual, the only time he had some time for himself being late at night. It seemed ages ago since he had seen the sun, other than during rushed transports from one location to another. And now this.
"It didn't look like that to me, Danny. You were all over her."
Sam's voice on the other end sounded sharp, unhappy. Shakily, he grabbed hold of the windowsill, leaned against it and put his head in his arm.
"Come on Sam, she jumped me. I had nothing to do with it."
The newspaper on the table next to the window was laying open in front of him, displaying a huge picture of him and a girl who had wrapped her arms around him, seemingly kissing passionately. Worst of all, the picture had been taken at the moment he had grabbed a hold of her, trying to push her away from him, so it seemed like he was hugging her right back.
He had been standing in the lobby of the hotel at the time, waiting for the agent K to check him in, while agent M was standing close by, keeping a watchful eye on the people who were passing by, staring at Danny.
He hadn't seen her approach, and neither, so it seemed, had the GIW agent. She was suddenly standing beside him, blinking her huge almond eyes at him, saying huskily, "Next time, I'll do the screaming." Then she had grabbed his head with both hands and had pressed her mouth onto his. Too shocked to move for a moment, he had actually returned the kiss briefly, before bringing his hands up to push her away. At that exact moment, a bright flash informed him that this moment was now forever recorded in history.
He had stared after her as the GIW dragged her away, smiling sweetly at him, and he realized it was the same girl who had invaded his hotel room a week earlier. Another hotel in another town. Was she stalking him?
"You look pretty cozy in that picture."
Danny sighed. Why didn't Sam believe him? It wasn't like he cheated on her.
"Look, Sam, she means nothing to me. It's just some girl with an obsession. It was the same girl who was in my room the other day."
Somehow, he felt he was making things worse.
"Riiiight. That girl with the pretty brown curls and those beautiful almond eyes? That was sitting in your bed? Naked?"
"Would you stop this! You don't know what it's like out here! People constantly following me, trying to get close to me, wanting a piece of me? Yesterday, somebody tried to cut off a piece of my hair! And this girl is stalking me. It's not like I asked for all of this."
"Well, you seem to be enjoying yourself. Looks to me like you're letting this thing go to your head, Danny."
He let go of the windowsill, turned around and let himself sink to the floor, pressing his back against the central heating.
"Sam, I miss you," he said hoarsely, "I can't take this. Please don't do this to me."
Silence on the other end of the line. He could see her sitting on the purple covers of her bed, surrounded by books, homework, wrapping paper from candy sticks like always. He longed to be with her, to hold her. It seemed ages ago since he had been able to do that, and it had been such a short time they had been together, before he left on his tour.
"Alright, I believe you," she said finally, sounding as if she had been crying.
Danny felt like crying too. "Look," he said, "Why don't you come visit. I'm sure we can arrange a hole in the schedule somewhere. I'll just cancel one of the interviews. Or all of them. I could use some time off too."
She sniffed. "I'll go talk to my parents," she said, "I think I can convince them, now that you're famous and all."
Danny grinned. Her parents had done a complete 180 towards him, gushing over him, inviting him over to their house. All this contributed to their status, and they reveled in the attention they were getting by being the parents of the girlfriend of the boy who saved the world.
"Great," he said, "I'll tell the GIW. Say hi to Tucker from me."
Danny sat in his chair in the small conference room in the hotel, impatiently rolling a pen back and forth over the table. He was waisting his time here, he still had so much to do, and he would have liked to have some time for himself before the next interview started. He hated waiting.
Finally, the door opened and one of the white clad agents, a new one whose name had eluded Danny so far, stepped inside the room, bringing with him General Morton. Behind the general was agent K, and he closed the door softly behind them.
"You're late," Danny said irritably.
The general frowned, his gray brows knitting together. Then he carefully took off his hat, placed it on the table and sat down on the chair opposite of Danny. The two GIW remained standing near the door.
"I'm sorry," the general said stiffly, "I have a busy schedule."
"So do I. Cut the crap, general, I know why you're here, and the answer is still the same as the last three times we spoke: no. You're waisting your time, and mine. I fight ghosts, not people."
The general placed his elbows on the table, folding his hands in front of his face.
"That's very noble of you," he said, "I take it you had a good look at our proposition?"
Danny grabbed the folder and threw it over the table. It slid to a stop right in front of the general.
"Good enough."
"Then you'll agree these terrorist attacks are a problem?"
"Of course they are. That's what you're for, aren't you? You don't need me to deal with this?"
General Morton wore a patient expression on his face, an expression that infuriated Danny. He felt like a little kid every time the man looked at him like that.
"You mean to say," the general said, "That you saved the world, only to have it overrun by these thugs? You'd walk away from that? You think you can keep your hands clean, let other people deal with it, while you could be so much more effective? Think of the lives you'll save..."
"I've saved enough lives. Leave me out of it," Danny said stubbornly.
He didn't want to admit the general actually had a point, for once. He could be very effective. Being able to fly, go invisible, intangible, that was a huge advantage over human infiltrators. He could take out terrorist groups, even entire armies if he needed to. The world could be a safer place because of that...
The general leaned forward, staring at him intently.
"With great power," he started, but Danny didn't give him the chance to finish.
"Yeah, yeah, I've seen that movie. The answer is still no," he said.
He got up and left the room, causing the GIW to have to hurry after him.
Danny recoiled when he saw the electrodes Mrs Graham was pulling from her suitcase. They were the same ones she had used to shock him with two weeks ago, and he had been very wary of her since then, but the worst she had done after that was sticking a needle in his arm to get a blood sample. She smiled vaguely at him, waving him to the bed, and he reluctantly sat down on it.
"Your mother phoned," she said.
"Really? I talked to her yesterday, she didn't say anything about that..."
Mrs Graham shrugged. "She called this morning. You know we've been sharing data from the test with her, and she suggested we repeat this one, only with a slightly higher voltage."
"What!"
Danny jumped up from the bed and drew his arms close. His mother had suggested they shock him? Mrs Graham continued to smile at him, but he now noticed the smile never reached her eyes. She held out her hand to him, beckoning him to come closer so she could apply the electrodes.
"I...I don't want to," he said, "No painful tests. I'm not some sort of lab rat."
"Mr Fenton," she said, "Your mother had a good point here. This is an important test, it could tell us a lot about your physique. It might help you later. What if you get injured in some way some day? I don't think regular medicine would know how to deal with your rather unique body."
Danny swallowed. Again, somebody had a point. Slowly, he sat down again and allowed her to apply the electrodes on his arms, dreading what would happen next. Mrs Graham stood up, and absentmindedly pushed him down on his back.
"You'd better lay down for this. It might... hurt a little."
Hurt was the understatement of the year. As soon as she pressed the button, his back arched backwards, and this time he couldn't withhold the scream. And it didn't stop. Shocks seared through him, slamming through his muscles, causing painful convulsions, and he was sure his hair was standing upright. Somebody was yelling 'stop, stop it, stop', and he realized vaguely that it was his own voice.
He was unable to operate his arms, his hands, to tear the electrodes of. They seemed to have a will of their own, cramped tightly against his body, spasming in sync with the electricity going through his body. The room swirled around him, making him nauseous until he shut his eyes tightly. He had been hurt before, he had been electrocuted before in his parents ghost portal, but he had never felt so helpless.
And then it stopped. A silence settled over the room, and he realized he had been screaming the entire time, begging the woman to stop torturing him with her device. She hadn't listened. He couldn't believe his mother would put him through this.
Slowly, painfully, he opened his eyes, bringing his shaking hand to his head. He felt the cool hands of Mrs Graham removing the electrodes from his arms, and he looked at her, trying to determine if she was some sort of devil in disguise. She smiled at him.
"Very good, Mr Fenton," she said, "You might want to take a shower, after you've rested. And maybe after that, we'll have a little reward for you."
She was right. He was sweating all over, he could use a shower. He watched as she neatly put away her things, stood up and briskly walked to the door, briefly stopping to speak to agent K. Then she left, shortly afterwards followed by the agent, who for some reason grinned and winked at him.
He laid on his bed for a long time, feeling weak. Every now and then his arms twitched as if he was still attached to the blasted electrodes, and he felt tears stinging behind his eyes. She had hurt him. His mother had told her to hurt him, just to get some stupid readings. That fact hurt even more than the electricity had done. He had been right all that time after all, not telling his parents his secret.
After a while he rolled of the bed and staggered to the bathroom, stepping into the shower without bothering to take his clothes off. He let the warm water soak him, turning the temperature way up to the point where he could almost no longer bear it, washing the sweat out of his hair and his clothes.
Finally, he started tugging at his shirt, struggling to get the wet cloth from his body, before remembering he could just go intangible to do that. He threw the wet t-shirt in the corner of the shower, and was just grabbing hold of his pants to do the same, when a voice caused him to swirl around.
"Nice."
He stared at her. She was standing in the entrance to the shower, leaning against the wall, her white blouse already getting wet. It was the same girl as before, the girl who had jumped him in the lobby of the hotel, which had caused a fight with Sam, the same girl who had sneaked into his room to wait for him in his bed.
"W-what are you doing here," he squeaked.
She smiled at him and stepped closer, letting the hot water soak her. Danny struggled to keep his eyes on her face.
"I'm your reward," she said.
Danny could do nothing but stare, his back against the wall, his mind still in turmoil from the shocking experience earlier. She stepped even closer, pressing her body against his. "Sam," he thought vaguely, but Sam was very far away and this girl was standing so very close to him.
They were sitting in a quit corner in the restaurant, as far away from prying eyes as they could get. The two white suited GIW agents were at the table next to them, effectively blocking anybody, other than the waiters, who would try to get closer to them.
Danny relaxed, and watched Sam as she was chewing her salad, letting her eyes wander aimlessly through the room full of small tables and plants to hide behind. The restaurant was set up such that it guaranteed a maximum of privacy by cleverly placed plants and trees, which was why they had chosen it. It looked like they were sitting in a forest.
"So," she said, after swallowing a piece of tomato, "This Graham woman. What is she like?"
Danny shrugged. He had told her about the test from the previous night, and she had been shocked to hear it had hurt so much.
"I dunno," he said, "She's OK, I guess. Just doing her job. I just can't believe my mother would suggest something like that to her though."
"Well, did you talk to her?"
He nodded, looking into her purple eyes. He felt happy and tranquil now, for the first time in over a month. Just sitting here with Sam, pretending the rest of the world didn't exist, he had almost forgotten what it was like. She was so familiar to him he could almost see what she was thinking. And right now she was thinking there must have been some mistake, some misunderstanding, his mother would never suggest performing painful tests on him.
"Yes I did. I called her this morning."
"Well?"
"She said she was sorry."
Sam blinked. Danny looked down at his plate and cut of a piece of meat. The telephone conversation with his mother had been painful, and had ended with him throwing the phone against the wall in a fit of rage. She had apologized, saying she hadn't known it would be painful, the voltage was just too low for that, and he had screamed at her that he was part ghost, and that he had come to be that way because he had been electrocuted in their portal. He did not want to experience that ever again.
"So, she didn't know?" Sam asked.
Danny shrugged. Maybe she hadn't known. But he was still too angry to give in just yet.
"Maybe not," he said, sighing, "But it still hurt. A lot."
They were silent for a while, finishing their dinner and drinks. Danny kept admiring the view, now that he was allowed to look at her that way. She returned his gaze, and for a while, they were just lost in each others eyes.
"Hi Danny."
He froze. Sam looked up in surprise, to see a girl with curly brown hair standing at their table, looking adoringly at Danny. Danny cringed.
"M-May," he stuttered, "What are you doing here? How did you get here?"
May laughed. "Silly. I always know where you are. I though I'd drop by."
She leaned closer and stared into Danny's eyes, completely ignoring Sam, who was now scowling at her. Danny gulped and started waving frantically at the GIW, who seemed oblivious to the girl.
"Look, just leave me alone, alright," Danny said as one of the agents grabbed hold of her arm to lead her away, "I don't want you near me."
She pouted. "You didn't say that last night," she said, a hurt look on her face.
The GIW agent tugged at her arm and she let him drag her away, looking back at Danny longingly. He sighed and turned back to Sam, who was now directing her scowl at him.
"What was that all about?" She wanted to know, "Who is she? What did she mean by 'last night'?"
"I-I don't know," Danny said hastily, frantically searching for an explanation, "She's been stalking me. She's crazy, I can't get rid of her. How did she get past the GIW anyway?"
To his relief, Sam's face softened. "Maybe she's a ghost," she said jokingly.
Danny shook his head. "I'd know, remember."
The waiter cleared his throat.
"Would you like order desert?" he asked.
Danny looked at Sam questionably, but she shook her head.
"No, it's fine," he said and then pointed at the two agents. "They're paying."
He got up and smirked at the GIW, who looked back implacably. Then he bend over and whispered in Sam's ear. She nodded, smiling, and they walked past the agents, who were hurriedly paying the bill and leaving their unfinished dinner behind to follow them.
They stepped outside, and, ignoring the large white limousine, started walking in the direction of Danny's hotel, only two blocks away. There weren't many people around, and Danny pulled his hoodie over his head to hide his well-known face. Then he boldly wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" Sam asked him after a while.
Danny sighed, not wanting to think about that just yet. He felt like he could walk like that forever, away from everything, take her with him somewhere where nobody knew them.
"Some demonstration for the military, I think," he said vaguely.
Sam stopped in her tracks.
"You what?" she asked, bewildered, "I thought you said you'd never work for the military?"
"Yeah, well," he said, hesitating, "It's just a demonstration. I did it before, it's nothing special. They kept nagging me, so I thought if I just gave them what they want, they'll leave me alone."
Sam shook her head, clearly in doubt. They resumed walking, closely followed by the GIW, who in fact drew more attention than the two teenagers with their arms wrapped around each other. They reached the hotel in no time at all, much to soon for Danny's liking, but Sam looked tired, so he refrained from suggesting they'd walk a bit further.
To his surprise, his room was still the same mess he had left it in this morning, the bed unmade, his pajamas thrown in the corner. He started muttering to himself and quickly ran around the room to clean up the worst of it.
"I don't know why they haven't cleaned my room today," he said apologetically, "It's always clean when I get back."
Sam shrugged, dropping herself on the bed.
"That's alright," she said, "It's not like I haven't seen your mess before."
He dropped down next to her and the both of them stared at the ceiling. Then she got up again.
"Gonna use your bathroom for a minute," she said, and disappeared through the door.
Danny closed his eyes, letting himself drift. All in all, things seemed to be turning out OK. Sam, who had a room next to his, would stay until tomorrow morning, they'd have breakfast together and then the GIW would bring her to her plane and him to Camp Ebony, three hours from here. It was going to be a long drive, him alone with those two taciturn white twins.
The door to the bathroom opened, and he raised his head to look at her, smiling. Until he saw what she was holding.
"Danny?" she asked, "What's this?"
He stared. She was holding a wet, white laced blouse and a red mini skirt. They hadn't cleaned his room! His head was spinning and he couldn't make a sound.
"There's more," she whispered.
He couldn't move. He wanted to, he wanted to grab those cursed items from her hands and throw them in the trash where they belonged, he wanted to go and hug her and tell her it was some mistake, a setup by the GIW, but he couldn't move.
"Please tell me this isn't what I think it is," she said.
Danny closed his eyes. This was the moment he should start talking, lying, tell her it wasn't what she though it was, but no words came out of his mouth. Random thoughts shot through his head, May, always managing to get past the GIW, the 'lucky' shot from the photographer, and then, the 'reward'... He wondered if the GIW had set him up, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why they would do such a thing. In any case, it didn't change the fact that he had played right into their hands if they had. Even with all his suspicions, he couldn't deny it. He never was a great lier anyway.
"I-I'm sorry," he managed to get out.
Sam dropped the wet clothes on the floor. It landed with a slap, not at all the sound he had expected. It should be a loud shattering, the sound of his life falling to pieces, breaking apart that what was left of him during the trying past month. She walked to the door.
"Sam," he said pleadingly, "Please don't go."
She stopped, but didn't turn around. He could see her shoulders shagging, as if she was crying silently.
"It's that girl from the restaurant, isn't it," she whispered hoarsely, extending her hand to grab hold of the door frame, "I'm leaving. Don't expect to see me in the morning, Danny. Goodnight."
"Sam, please, would you just listen?"
He paced his room at Camp Ebony, agitated, the phone practically glued to his ear and running his hand through his hair, making a mess of it. His head was aching again, and he rubbed his eyes, looking away from the window and the bright sunlight outside.
"Danny, I just want to get away from you for a while, can't you understand that?" Sam answered him.
He could hear voices in the background, as if there were a lot of people there, and he wondered what was going on at her house.
"Who's there with you?" he asked.
"Don't change the subject, Danny," she said, sounding annoyed, "My parents are throwing a party. I have to attend. This is a really bad time."
"Well, I'm having a bad time here too," Danny said, his eyes skittering from one end of the room to the other, unable to focus on something longer than a few seconds, knowing someone would come and get him any minute now for the next round of tests.
There were no GIW present here at Camp Ebony. They had dropped him off two days earlier, and then had left, saying they were needed elsewhere. He wondered what their agenda was, and he was actually glad he was rid of them for a while. The military compound was a nice change from the hotels and the ever present reporters, who were still harassing him. They couldn't get in here though, and their number at the gate seemed to diminish with time, when it became apparent he wasn't coming out. The only thing he needed to do now, was convince Sam to come back to him.
"Gee, I'm sorry to hear that," Sam answered sarcastically, "Because, maybe, you know, you brought this upon yourself."
Danny let himself fall on the bed and closed his eyes. She was right of course, but he needed her. She boosted his confidence, she gave meaning to all of this. Without her, he might as well give up. His parents had let him down, his sister only called to comment on one of his performances, Tucker was mad at him for cheating on Sam – "Not you too," Danny had yelled at him before cutting his friend off –, and he really didn't have any other friends.
"Come on, Sam, I said I was sorry," he tried, "I think the GIW set me up. They did it on purpose, they practically threw her at me."
"Did you, or did you not sleep with her?"
"Um, well, yes. Sam, please. I wasn't myself at the time. She doesn't mean anything to me, I love you."
"Yes, well...," she paused. "Look. I have to think this through. How am I ever going to trust you again?"
"You can't desert me like this," he said, desperately searching for words that would make it alright again somehow, knowing he couldn't.
"Watch me.".
"I can't do this without you."
"You should have thought of that before."
A knock on the door told him he needed to go.
"I have to go, Sam," he said, looking at his watch, "I'll call you tomorrow, OK?"
"No," she said, "Don't."
Blast.
A bright green flash, then silence. People came closer, men and women wearing white lab coats, bending over the huge iron block, examining the small hole in the middle. He waited patiently, letting them take their measurements while he rested, trying to regain some energy for the next try he was sure they were going to ask of him.
He wasn't in ghost form, and somehow that made firing ecto beams just a little bit harder, especially the more powerful kind. He would have liked to change, but for some reason the electrodes attached to his head didn't work in his ghost form. To get some data, he had to do this as a human.
The scientists looked up, seemingly finished, and Gary hurried over to him, smiling that friendly smile of his. Danny liked him, he acted normal towards him, not haughty like the general or fearful like most of the soldiers. Mrs Graham was standing behind him, watching over the electrodes, which made him a little wary, remembering the way she had shocked him two weeks ago.
"You did good," Gary informed him, "But you need more power. Can you do that?"
Danny looked at the iron block again, almost a foot wide. They wanted him to cut a hole in it, using a continuous ecto beam to burn through it. It was very hard to do, requiring all his concentration to keep the beam steady, and four times already he had ended up with a blast when his concentration faltered.
He pointed his index finger at the block again, and let the energy seep into it gradually, intensifying it until he could feel his whole arm tingle. Then he let go, directing the thin beam at the block to hit where he had left off before. A thin streak of smoke drifted up from where he hit the iron.
He started to sweat, tiny droplets streaming down his face, and he was breathing hard. His arm started to hurt a little and he clenched his teeth, trying to stay focused. Behind him, the device Mrs Graham was monitoring was starting to beep.
It was just him and that piece of metal. He blocked everything out, keeping his mind on the job, like he had done in the past two weeks he had been here at Camp Ebony. He pushed out every other thought, working himself overtime to keep himself from breaking down. He had messed up big time, and Sam had left him. That was all there was to it. He just wished he could block out her purple eyes as well, but he kept seeing them in front of him, accusing him, and he focused the ecto beam on them, trying to burn them away.
The beeping sound behind him increased in intensity, and he thought he heard Mrs Graham say something, but he didn't pay attention to it. He felt the beam in it's entirety now, finally able to direct it's power to the right place, cutting off a piece of the iron block. He ignored the pain in his arm, ignored the alarmed shouts of the people around him, and ignored the tearing feeling inside his head.
Mrs Graham beckoned him, and Danny followed her dutifully. Two weeks had passed since he had last spoken to Sam, and he had given up on protesting that he didn't want to do it, that he didn't want to be a guinea-pig. She gestured to the examination table in the middle of the all white room, and he sat down, waiting for things to happen.
As he waited, his eyes got a distant look in them, and he let his mind drift away from the boring tests. It was always the same, she wanted a blood sample, or measure something, or, like now, inject him with something that could boost his powers. And he cooperated sullenly, his resistance shattered when he found that Sam wasn't talking to him.
He had tried calling her, but she didn't pick up her phone, obviously knowing it was him from the area code displayed on the tiny screen. And when he called her house, her parents refused to talk to him, or get her on the phone for him. He had tried to get Tucker to talk to her, but he was still mad at Danny for the way he had treated him earlier, and sided with Sam on the matter.
"This will only hurt a little," Mrs Graham told him as she plunged the syringe with the green liquid in his left arm.
He didn't believe her. She always said that, and it always hurt. He shivered a little when he felt the liquid creep through his body, being distributed by his human circulation. Then he looked at her, waiting for her signal. She nodded, not taking her eyes off the monitor.
He stood up, staggering a little from the dizzy feeling he always got from these tests, and then reached inside of him and let the two familiar white rings appear around his waist, changing him into Phantom.
Immediately, he felt the power surge through him, a glowing, thundering feeling inside of him, his ghost powers, enhanced by the liquid she had injected him with. It was the equivalent of the ecto suit, now no longer external, but inside of him, burning, eager to get out. He grinned at her, knowing he could now blow up the entire building, obliterate it with one thought with everybody in it, but she looked unperturbed, her usual placid self, seemingly sure that he wouldn't do that.
Well, he wouldn't. But it would still be better for everybody if he went outside quickly, so he turned himself and, on a whim, Mrs Graham, intangible, and moved them outside, going directly through the wall. There he let go of her, and saw to his satisfaction that she looked a little disheveled. She glared at him, straightening her skirt, and suddenly she looked menacing.
"Don't," she said in a toneless voice, "Ever. Do that again."
He smirked at her. "What's to stop me?" he asked.
Her eyes lit up, and she actually started to laugh. Danny blinked in surprise, and then shivered. She didn't sound...normal. At all.
"You know, you really are a C-student, aren't you," she said, still smiling, and then she bent over to him, her face suddenly serious.
"Think about it, Fenton, who puts a needle into you," she said, "I can make it comfortable, or painful. And you'll never know in advance."
With that, she turned around and walked away, leaving Danny behind to stare at her back, trying to suppress the shivers that ran up his spine.
Danny looked at the single sheet of paper laying in front of him on the table, his hands in his lap. General Morton leaned back in his chair, waiting patiently for Danny to make a move. Gary was at the door behind him, standing quietly to attention. Danny hesitated, nervously clenching and unclenching his fists, his determination faltering.
There were already two signatures there, one from his mother and one from his father, giving their consent, turning their son over to the care of the GIW and General Morton of Camp Ebony. All he had to do was write his name there, sign his life away.
"Are you sure about this?" his mother had asked on the phone, sounding worried.
"Yes mom, I'm sure," he had said, "I can really do something here, make a difference. It's not like you need me there anymore, now that the ghosts are so quiet."
He had closed his eyes at that point, willing his mother to tell him not to be silly, to come home to them, that they needed him there for himself, not for ghost fighting, that he should stop this nonsense that went against his very being.
"Alright," she had said, "If that's what you want."
Danny picked up the pen and quickly scribbled down his name next to his mothers.
Time passed, but he didn't pay much attention to it. He noticed the seasons pass him by with only a mild curiosity, taking it in as a fact that it was now autumn again, without actually exploring the meaning of it. His cold blue eyes scanned the hallway, always on the alert, always scrutinizing his environment for possible threats, just like it was drilled into him.
The door opened, and Gary came out, stopping to smile at him. He walked over and let himself drop on the bench next to Danny, holding a stack of papers. Danny didn't return the smile.
"Are you ready?" Gary asked him.
Danny shrugged. "As ready as I'll ever be," he said.
Gary let his hand drop on his shoulder and squeezed it, looking into the young man's blue eyes, which had a distant look in them. He felt his muscles tense.
"Alright, let's go then," he said, glancing briefly in the direction of General Morton, who had appeared at the end of the hallway, stopping to look at them.
They both stood up, and walked to the exit, going past the general. Danny didn't so much as acknowledge him, although he was officially required to salute. Because of his unique position, he got away with it. Gary wasn't so lucky though, so he saluted properly, before following Danny out into the sunshine.
Danny stopped briefly and closed his eyes, letting the sun warm his skin, silently enjoying it's warm beams. Then he pulled himself together, and fixed his eyes on the transport plane in front of them. With one look behind him at the building that had been his home for the past year, he marched to the plane.
The Phantom was on his first mission.
Alright, um, THE END, for now. Although even I can't call this a happy ending. Still, it's an ending of sorts.
This was actually harder than I thought it would be, doing this as one long one shot. It's easier to balance a story with chapters somehow.