Co-write between Tangerine Catnip and Dream Trance
Chapter 1:
Catalyst
You give us grace and light when all our other hope is gone, but underneath it all, you're just like one of us. You look into the blackest night, 'cause you can see the dawn. You're the only one we trust. ~"Daring Mare" by H8_Seed
The ten foot long machine consisted of two major parts; a flat area just large enough to support the prone body of a 16-year-old boy, and a large donut-shaped mechanism placed adjacent to the flat piece. To the untrained eye, it looked like the CT machines used by hospitals for three-dimensional X-rays, or 'cat scans.' Upon closer inspection, however, one would notice the spinning axis within the metal donut produced rays far more complex than those used to see through skin and bone.
One inventor of the machine, Maddie Fenton, knelt beside an open control panel on the metal ring. Her red goggles were pulled over her eyes, but the deep frown on her lips spoke of determined concentration. Sparks from the blowtorch she wielded fizzled on the metal floor as they landed, the soft hissing noise of the flame lasting only a few seconds, but echoing in the near silent lab.
Her husband stood across from her, a wrench in hand as he checked over the more mechanical hardware of the invention, tightening loose bolts and checking none of the parts ground against each other. The care needed in creating the separator was so great that Jack had willingly admitted it was better for Maddie to take the lead in designing it. There was simply no room for bumbling when the cost might be their son's life.
Even Tucker had offered his aid in constructing the written code the internal computer would run on, a complex task that involved outlining all the movements the mechanical parts would make to complete the procedure, translating it into a programming language and then into binary. He had spent a lot of time getting it exactly right, and even now he was still triple checking it for bugs.
Careful planning and great attention to small details made this invention take a full week to construct, something that was near unheard of from the Fenton's who were famously able to build a fully functioning rocket in one day. It was rare for the ghost hunters to take such care with their inventions, but understandable considering who this device was meant for.
It had taken many hours, Danny had waited patiently, and now it was finally happening.
He was finally going to live again.
Danny laid his hand on the platform designed specifically for him, and felt a thrill of apprehension and excitement course up his spine. A bittersweet smile crossed his lips as he stared down at the invention that would drastically change his life…hopefully for the better this time.
Behind him, a girl whose violet eyes had been glaring daggers into the floor finally gathered her voice to speak.
"This is a mistake."
Danny sighed. He turned to face her, his hand sliding off the smooth platform covering. "We've talked this to death, Sam," he said, his voice flat.
"Because you're not listening!" Sam uncrossed her arms and threw them over her head in exasperation. "You can't just give up your powers!"
"They're mine to give away!" Danny snapped. "My life they're ruining!"
"There you go, being selfish again!"
"I am not being selfish!"
"You are too!"
Jazz set her parents' calculations on the lab bench and rushed across the lab to stand between the two teenagers, forcing them apart. "Okay, we all just need to take a deep breath."
"You're wasting your time, Jazz," Tucker said as he continued to type, lime green numbers dancing across his glasses. "This lover's quarrel has been going on for days."
"And it's ridiculous," she said. She turned to Sam, speaking softly so as not to agitate the other girl further. "Maybe Danny is being selfish—"
"How am I being selfish? They're my—"
"—but this isn't like last time, Sam. He's thought long and hard about this, and if this is what he wants, then we should be there to support him in whatever he chooses."
"But why?" Sam pushed passed Jazz so she could gaze directly into Danny's eyes. "Why do you want this? Your powers make you unique! I thought…I thought you had finally accepted them as a gift…"
Danny parted his lips, a sarcastic comment leaping to the tip of his tongue, but the tightening around Sam's eyes and the guilt hidden in her frown made him pause. Sighing, he reached for Sam's hand and held it gently, smiling when her fingers curled to hold his too. "They were a gift, Sam, and I can never thank you enough for helping me realize that…but…I just can't live like this. Like a freak put on display every time I step out the door, like someone they need to worship." He released a dry laugh. "I can't even talk to Mikey anymore without him having an asthma attack!"
"But isn't that what you always wanted?" Sam asked. "To be seen as the hero you are? Now that you're finally getting the praise you deserve, you're going to just give it up?"
Danny exhaled deeply, breaking eye-contact with Sam. "I wanted to be recognized, but more than that, I wanted to protect everyone. It was never just about the fame. It was about protecting my home from the danger I put it in… and now that it doesn't need me anymore, I just want to move on."
"But the city still needs you, Danny! The whole world needs you!"
"Sam," he said softly.
She looked down at their interlocked hands, her fingers tightening around his as she added in a whisper, "I need you…"
Danny hooked his free hand under her chin and lifted her face so she was once again staring into his eyes. "I'll still be here, Sam. Just not as Danny Phantom."
"You are Danny Phantom, though!" Sam yelled, stomping her combat boot on the floor to show her frustration. "It's who you are!"
Danny's lips pressed into a thin line, resentment heating his veins. "Was the little boy you met in second grade Danny Phantom?" he demanded, a sharp edge to his voice.
Sam was taken aback for a moment, staring at Danny with large eyes, but she had too much experience as a debater to be speechless for long. "Danny—"
"I want to be more than just Danny Phantom, Sam." He squeezed her hand, desperate to make his girlfriend understand. He wanted…needed her to understand. He needed her there beside him, now more than ever. "That's all anyone ever sees me as anymore. When they pass me on the streets, it's not, 'Hey, Danny!' or even, 'Hey, Fenton!' it's 'Hey, Phantom!' or 'Hey, Ghost Boy!'" His eyes half-closed, pain lacing his voice. "It's like my value is based entirely on the white insignia on my chest…even when I'm not wearing it, it's there."
"And you think getting rid of your powers will change that?" Sam asked. "That everyone will just forget what you've done for them? You saved the world, Danny. Whether you're Phantom or just Fenton, you'll always be the hero who united two worlds."
"But I'll at least be me." He dropped her hand and wandered to the other side of the machine, where his mother was working on the side panel.
Sam chased after him, the stomp of her boots clanking against the metal floor. She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away from the separator, forcing him to look at her again. "Danny! You can't—"
"Please, Sam, just trust me. I know you don't see it now, but this will be better for all of us." He smiled at her in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.
Sam paused a moment, torn. "Not for the city it won't. What if Amity gets attacked by another Pariah Dark, and you're not around to save it?" Her frown deepened when he simply shrugged her statement off.
"There's no need to worry about the ghost hunting, kids," Maddie said before Danny could answer. She turned off her blowtorch and pulled back her hood. "Your father and I can handle it. Now that the government is taking us seriously and funding our research, we're able to develop and produce stronger and better ghost defenses."
"Exactly." Danny gestured around the lab at all the new and shiny ghost hunting equipment his parents were designing on government grants. "You have to admit Sam, a small army of highly trained ghost hunters will be better at protecting everyone's safety than a lone teenager…even one with superpowers." He placed his hands on Sam's shoulders, staring into her eyes. "The world doesn't need Danny Phantom, but I need my life back, Sam. Haven't I done my part as this world's hero?"
The Goth girl gazed back at him, the blue pools of his eyes silently pleading with her to agree with him. Sam felt another pluck at her heartstrings, but it wasn't quite enough to halt her attempts. "So you're just going to sit on the sidelines again?" she questioned, her eyes slightly narrowed.
"You and I both know I can't do that anymore. I'll still fight ghosts and defend the city, but I'll be fighting beside you…and everyone else. I'll be just another ghost hunter. I won't be forced to be what everyone expects a superhero to be. I'll just be me."
The boy started moving away again, but Sam managed to grab his wrist before he removed it from her shoulder. He faced her, waiting to see what she would do next. She pulled on his arm, and a second later, Danny found himself in the middle of a tight embrace, his girlfriend's head resting on his shoulder as she held him close. The raven-haired teen was still for a moment before he gave in and wrapped his own arms around Sam's back.
"Hey, guys," Tucker interjected, looking up from his keyboard. "I hate to spoil the moment, but we're just about done."
Danny stepped away from Sam, noticing all the open side panels on the separator had been closed. His parents were over by the thick rubber cord that fed into the lab's internal generator. Jack held two ends of the extension cord, ready to connect them and complete the circuit that would power the machine.
The scene reminded Danny of the moment before his parents plugged in the Ghost Portal, except his mother's expression looked nothing like the excited cusp-of-discovery, wide-eyed grin she had worn in his memory of the event. Jack was rather somber as well, and it struck Danny as odd to see his parents so depressed after finishing an invention.
Maddie squeezed her husband's arm, and Jack finally plugged the machine in. The room slowly filled with a low humming sound as the internal fans kicked into life, and to Danny, it sounded just like the roaring of rocket engines, but on a much quieter scale.
Tucker inputted a sequence on his keyboard, and the machine sprang to life, like a large monster awakening from sleep. Parts moved gradually, testing out all the joints and pivot points to make sure everything was running smoothly and nothing would hamper the machine's ability to perform.
All eyes in the room followed its actions for a minute until it finally finished running self-diagnostics and settled into standby mode, waiting for its first—and only—patient.
Maddie made a beeline for her son, and Sam strayed over to stand beside Tucker, giving the two a moment. The mother kneeled down a little so she at eyelevel with Danny, cupping her cheek in her hands as she spoke to him. "Sweetie, I just want you to know that if you're not sure about going through with this you just have to tell us…"
"Thanks, Mom," Danny replied softly, "but you know I wouldn't have asked you and Dad to go through all this trouble if I wasn't sure." He half-smiled at Maddie and looked over her shoulder at his father. "Besides," he added, attempting to lighten the mood, "after this, you won't have to worry about me getting mobbed by the paparazzi and missing school."
Jazz nodded, more to herself than anyone else. She had her own horror stories from run-ins with the negative side of Danny's popularity, and she hadn't even been at home that much after leaving for Yale last September.
Judging by the photojournalists camped outside and the blinders placed on all the windows, things had only gotten worse after she left. It was little wonder Danny would go this far just for a chance to get them off his back.
Not that she was thrilled with Danny's decision to give up his powers, but like her parents, she couldn't refuse him when all he wanted was to be normal again.
Her brother now sat on the stretcher attached to the machine, and Jazz found herself drawn into the small circles of close friends and family that had gathered around Danny. An awkward silence settled over the groups as Maddie double-checked all the tools she needed for the extraction process.
"Have we got a name for this one yet?" Tucker asked, patting the side of the machine.
Jazz, forever a lover of naming things, was the first to respond."How about the Fenton Humanizer?"
Her suggestion hung in the air a moment before Jack broke the silence. "Nice try, Jasmine, but the name should be more literal so everyone knows what it does. We should call it the Fenton Ghost Extractor."
"Phantom Extractor," Danny corrected. He had always disliked it when his parents referred to his other half by his species instead of by name. People weren't referred to as just 'human', so why should ghosts have it different?
"The Fenton-Phantom Extractor…" Tucker mused. "Little bit of a tongue twister, but I can roll with it." Danny snorted, amused, and Tucker flashed him a smile.
Maddie placed her hands on Danny's shoulders and guided him to lie down on the stretcher. Jazz stepped forward and grabbed her brother's wrist as Maddie prepped the hypodermic syringe.
A half inch needle was inserted into the small vile of anesthetic, and Danny paled, watching as Maddie pulled back on the trigger and a few ounces filled the chamber of the needle. The clear tube showed how this particular mixture was a bright luminescent green. Maddie had designed it herself to help Danny's body cope with the removal of all ecto-energy, along with making the process as painless as possible.
Jazz's grip tightened around her brother's wrist, and she gestured silently to indicate Sam should hold Danny's other hand. The Goth girl nodded and circled around the table, taking Danny's slightly larger hand in her own.
"You okay?" she asked.
He smiled shakily at her, but his gaze was drawn back to his mom as she searched for a suitable vain in his wrist. "Oh yeah…" Danny replied, his tone a few octaves higher than usual. "I'm fine…just, you know, needles…"
Sam inclined her head, hiding a small smile. She remembered government mandated immunizations in middle school, where she and Tucker had dragged Danny to the temporary clinic in the gym, kicking and screaming. The poor boy really didn't like any form of sharp medical equipment, a fear only strengthened when his ghost powers made him the number one candidate for scientific dissection.
"Just hold still, Danny," Maddie said as she rubbed down the area with a disinfectant-soaked cotton-ball. "It will only hurt for a second." She placed the needle's tip on the faint blue outline of a vain.
Blue eyes clenched shut, and Sam felt Danny's grip on her hand tighten. She squeezed his fingers in return. Jazz counted down from five and when she reached zero, Maddie finished. She pulled the needle out and applied a band-aid over the small puncture. Danny shivered, sure he could feel the drugs coursing through his veins and sinking into his system.
Maddie set the syringe aside. "It should take effect in a few minutes," she said, looking up at the other occupants of the room.
Jazz was the first to react to the warning. She lightly touched Danny, noticing how his muscles relaxed and went slack as the anesthetic set in. "Sleep tight, little brother," she murmured.
Tucker leaved over his half comatose friend. "Don't worry, dude. We promise you won't wake up with an extra arm." The jest earned him an eye roll from Sam and a chuckle from Danny.
The Goth girl tugged a little on Danny's arm to gain his attention. If she wanted to make her peace with him, it was now or never. "Danny, I may not agree with this, but I do trust you…I just hope you're happy with whatever the outcome of all this is."
Danny exhaled deeply, like a weight had been lifted. "Thanks, Sam…that means a lot to me," he mumbled, half wondering if the drugs were to blame for making him sound like a sap.
The smile he received from his girlfriend told him he had said the right thing, though. Sam leaned forward to give her boyfriend one last hug, careful not to jostle him too much. She released Danny a moment later and the silence returned, the seconds slowly slipping away along with Danny's consciousness.
Meanwhile, Jack Fenton was starting to get the feeling he should say something to Danny. Something reassuring and fatherly. "Don't worry, Son! We'll get that putrid protoplasm out of you!" Stunned silence reigned, and the smile on Jack's face slipped. "Ah, I mean—"
"It's okay, Dad," Danny said. "I know." Then inwardly he added, 'Besides, in a moment, anything Dad says about ghosts won't apply to me anymore.'
As his focus on the world around him faded, Danny experienced a short moment where everything blackened and the outlines blurred. The teen could have sworn he heard his mother's voice speaking softly to him, but she sounded far away, like she was on the other end of a long tunnel.
"Don't worry, Sweetie. When you wake up, this will all be over…."
Soft lips pressed against Danny's forehead, like how his mother kissed him after she tucked him into bed. There was silence again except for the low hum of the machine Danny lay on. In his last few seconds of consciousness, Danny reflected on how he would miss flying most of all, but the thoughts were soon lost as he fell into the forgiving embrace of chemically induced sleep.
Two white rings erupted around his waist. In a mirror opposite of what usually happened when he passed out, the loss of control caused Fenton to turn into Phantom.
"So far so good," Maddie murmured to herself. At the moment, Danny's ghost side was as loosely tied to his human body as possible. All it needed was the right machine to take it away from him for good.
She stood up straight, switching from her caring mother persona to that of a hardened female scientist. "Jack, take the controls," she ordered, taking command of the situation with the ease of a drill sergeant. "Kids, step back. We don't know what the side-effects of this process might be, so we must be ready for anything."
Jack pressed a short sequence into the control panel. As soon as his finger landed on the enter key, the Phantom Extractor burst into life. The axle began its speedy rotation inside the metal donut, spinning the projectors around fast enough to create a solid wall of green energy around the hole in the center.
These florescent waves were designed to penetrate the very DNA of the subject, locating and removing any traces of ethereal contamination. Although similar in design, the Phantom Extractor was immensely more powerful than its predecessor, the Fenton Ghost Catcher, whose latticework of concentrated beams had nasty side effects on the subject's personality and had proven only semi-effective at purging ghost energy. The newer design of this invention would negate such side-effects and would leave the subject unchanged, minus the loss of ghost contaminant.
Sam watched with a mix of horror and amazement as the hydraulics stirred to life and the platform the incapacitated Danny lay on began to move. Gradually, the white-haired ghost boy inched towards the green barrier, his loved ones watching with bated breath as the toes of his boots came in contact with the glowing field.
A soft hissing filled the room. A green mist rose from the point where Danny's feet were being fed through the inner ring. Maddie hurried to the other side, sighing in relief when Danny Fenton's red and white running shoes emerged on the other side of the green wall. Everything was running smoothly then. For the removed energy to be so…tangible was an unexpected side-effect.
As time passed, it was almost like watching a loading bar move across a computer screen, the black and white of Phantom retreating gradually along the length of Danny's body. If anyone had seen fit to time the process, they would have discovered it took about fifteen minutes before the last strands of white hair returned to the normal shade of pitch black. Job completed, the machine's rotation slowed. It returned to its starting position, pulling Danny back through the now deactivated tunnel.
"So…" Tucker leaned over the prone form of his friend. "Did it work?"
"I believe so," Maddie said, and placed her hand on her son's forehead to gauge his temperature. "But we will have to wait for Danny to regain consciousness before we know for sure."
Jazz stepped back from the machine, staring with wide eyes up at the ceiling. "Umm…Mom?" she squeaked.
Her tone drew the attention of the others, and as one they followed her gaze to a green cloud of smoke condensing above the machine. As they watched, it began to swirl, compressing itself around the outline of something far more tangible than simple smoke. The cloud began to clear and reform into a familiar black and white form, lying backwards in the air, as unconscious as his living twin on the bench below him. The green smoke hugged the boy close and was pulled inside him, the raw energy taking the form it was most accustomed to.
"Danny!" Sam cried in shock, taking a half-step forward.
As the last of the cloud was absorbed, the floating ghost began to sink. Reacting on maternal instincts, Maddie rushed forward to catch him. He descended like a balloon half-filled with helium as he lowered into her arms. He was so light, like holding a large feather. She had to be careful not to move too fast or he would simply float out of her hold.
Sam was beside Maddie in a flash, looking from one Danny to the other as if to make sure there were still two of them in the room. "This is just like when Danny split himself," she realized.
Tucker nodded. "Some of his personality must have not made it through the separator, and it reformed into a second Danny."
"That's impossible!" Jack said, looking over his wife's shoulder in confusion. "We designed the machine precisely so that wouldn't happen. Any extra ghost energy wouldn't have enough post-human consciousness left to be anything more than basic ecto-anomalies."
The ghost in Maddie's arms moaned softly, shifting slightly in his sleep. "Well, we won't know for sure if Danny's personality did split until one of them wakes up," Jazz pointed out. "We all just need to take a deep breath. There's no reason to rush—"
A large crash echoed down the stairs, emanating from the first floor of Fenton Works. The sound was still ringing in the lab when two men in white uniforms rushed down the laboratory stairs, weapons up and pointed at the shocked Fenton family and friends.
Maddie and Jack stepped back towards the machine, putting themselves between the newly arrived Guys in White and their little boy. Jack's large body managed to completely hide the human Danny from the intruders while Maddie hugged the ghost boy protectively to her chest. The mother twisted at the hip to see if any of her own guns were within reach, but the weapons wall was on the opposite side of the lab.
Behind the first two, a battalion of full-suited agents with gasmasks filed into the room. They outnumbered the Fentons five-to-one, and every one of them was armed. A senior-looking agent sporting a short, white beard and a few medals pinned to his lapel pushed his way through the crowd of agents. He strode over to the Fentons and handed Jack an official-looking document.
"Under the new federal regulations affecting persons of unusual and destructive abilities," he barked, speaking with the confident air of someone used to the ways of bureaucracy, "we are here to detain Daniel Fenton, aka, Danny Phantom."
"You can't do that!" Sam exploded, mindless of the pistols aimed at her chest. "Danny's a hero and everyone knows it! If you start experimenting on him there will be riots in the streets!"
The elder agent regarded Sam like she was fly swimming in his soup. He had hoped the Ghost Boy's obnoxious girlfriend wouldn't be in attendance. He had heard from the agents who were first assigned to the phantom case that she knew a little too much for her own good and wouldn't let Danny go without a fight.
"Did I say we were going to experiment on him, child?" he questioned. "Because I could have sworn I just said 'detain', a word that simply means to put into official custody." He scoffed in her general direction, silently lamenting on what a shame it was that one could no longer hit children.
"What are the charges?" Tucker interrupted, trying to sound imposing despite just reciting what he had heard one late-night cop-shows.
The agent waited a moment to respond, but seeing as Jack and Maddie were too busy reading the arrest warrant he gave them, it seemed he was stuck answering the petulant youths for now. "There are no charges. We simply cannot allow a sixteen-year-old boy with destructive powers comparable to a nuclear warhead to remain out of control of the United States government."
Maddie snapped to attention at this last statement. She dropped the paperwork and adopted a defensive stance she had learned in her martial arts training. "Ohh no. I will not just sit by and let some heartless agency take away my sweetie pie!"
The government representative frowned at her distastefully, the agents behind him tensing in expectation of resistance. "Please, Mrs. Fenton, neither of us want to see anyone hurt…" The lead agent indicated the three teenagers in the room with a vague hand gesture, adding, "And of course, you will be allowed to visit Daniel once every few months."
Maddie's glare was so cold one could have sworn the temperature had dropped a few degrees. "Jack," she muttered, cool as the proverbial cucumber, "the portal, get the doors…"
Her husband looked at her in surprise, but Maddie had already started running across the lab. The overzealous Guys in White opened fire on her, forcing her to duck and weave to avoid the blasts.
"Now, Jack!" she shouted over her shoulder.
The lab erupted into chaos. Jazz, who had been inching her way over to the weapons wall, made a flying leap for it and grabbed two medium sized guns. She tossed them to Sam and Tucker before grabbing a large shotgun for herself. The Goth girl caught hers in midair and aimed at the operatives nearest the portal to clear the way for Maddie. Tucker, however, dropped his weapon and had to collect it from the lab floor before ducking behind the machine. He grabbed the human Danny's wrist and pulled his sleeping friend behind him.
Jack managed to slam his finger on the genetic lock before an agent had the bright idea to shoot at him instead of the woman carrying the Ghost Boy. The blast caught him in the shoulder and he feel to his knees for a moment, covering the wounded area with a large hand.
The portal doors hissed open, the green glow of the Ghost Zone filling the lab with eerie light.
"Good luck, sweetie," Maddie murmured to whatever parts of her son's personality that had been captured in the ghost. She paused at the threshold of the portal and threw the ghost's feather light frame into the swirling vortex with all her strength.
The portal doors shut with an echoing clang. The gunfire in the laboratory died as both sides realized the die had been cast. Maddie hurried to the fallen Jack, checking he was all right. Sam and Jazz lowered their guns, and Tucker peeked out from behind the Phantom Extractor.
The gathered Guys in White agents looked at each other uncertainly until one of the newer agents had the gall to ask, "Isn't someone going to go in there after him?"
The other members of his battalion glared at him.
"You want to volunteer?" a second voice piped up to answer the newbie, causing the man to pale considerably.
"No one is going in there, it's out of our jurisdiction," their leader interrupted, surprising the more senior members who knew he was not a man who gave up easily.
"You're damn right you're not going in there!" Sam taunted. "Two-bit government thugs like you wouldn't five minutes." Her frustration grew when they completely ignored her.
The man with white hair turned his back on the Fentons and addressed his platoon. "We may have failed to capture him this time, but that doesn't mean he won't return. He has school to attend…and I'm fairly sure there is no human food in that godforsaken place."
Behind the speaking agent, Tucker and Jazz were moving Danny again. Jazz had her arms around her brother's chest and Tucker carried his feet. Together they heaved him off the floor and laid him safely on the bench, the sleeping boy still blissfully unaware of the chaos that had erupted around him.
"Umm…sir?" one of the agents in a gas mask said.
"…half human as well as ghost, and likely cannot spend more than—"
"Sir?" the man tried again, a little louder this time. The whole battalion turned to the man who had dared to interrupt the captain.
"What is it, Private?" the man demanded, placing his hands on his hips like an angry school teacher.
"I-isn't that the human half you were talking about?" the man asked, and pointed behind the leader to the unconscious Danny. The elite agent laid eyes on the human Danny, and suddenly felt like he didn't have quite as much control over the situation as he had thought.
"Someone better explain what in the name of Sam Hill is going on, and they better do it quick!"
Half an hour later, Danny opened his eyes to find the lab swimming and blurred around him. His stomach heaved unpleasantly, and he wrapped his arms around his middle, groaning.
"He's awake!"
The boy only had a few seconds to recognize the speaker as Jazz before his friends and family crowded around him. Their too-close faces were even worse than the rippling ceiling, and he turned his head away with a grimace.
"Give him some room, guys," Tucker said, and almost immediately the air around Danny felt less tense.
Sam sat on the bench beside him and helped him sit up. Danny leaned heavily on her shoulder, grateful for the support. A glass was pressed to his lips, and he eagerly drank the contents, his mouth unbearably dry. After he finished, he felt less nauseous and was able to sit on his own, although he kept his shoulder pressed against Sam's.
His mother cupped his cheek, urging him to look into her eyes. "How are you feeling, sweetie?" she asked.
Maddie's eyebrows were pinched in concern, her lips turned down in a frown, and for a second, Danny wondered if something had gone wrong. Then he breathed in deep, air filling his lungs near to bursting. He felt warm blood surging in his veins, felt his heart pumping that blood at a rate faster than he was used to, and his limbs fairly twitched with the urge to move, to experience.
A wide smile stretched across Danny's lips as he looked down at his hand. "Alive," he breathed. The people around him shifted, recapturing his attention. They were all wearing troubled expressions, and the feeling that something was wrong returned, erasing the smile on Danny's face. "Did…something happen?"
His friends and family exchanged glances, further alarming Danny. The feeling increased when Jazz insisted on giving him a makeshift psychology test to check for any missing personality elements. Only after he had passed with flying colors—and was seconds away from shouting for answers—did they tell him what had occurred while he slept.
The Guys in White had left a few minutes before he awoke, but the lab still bore many plasma burns and broken beakers as a memento. Only after scanning Danny multiple times to confirm the Fenton's story did the agents return to home base to notify their leaders (and presumably the White House and Senate) about the major change in the Danny Phantom case.
As soon as they had left, Tucker and Sam had driven the Spector Speeder into the Ghost Zone to find the lost Danny-half. Sadly, much like the anniversary gift that had been lost in the Zone for a time, the unconscious ghost had drifted away in the zero-gravity void and had become hopelessly lost in its infinite realms.
The real world items scanner was useless when trying to find a full-ghost Danny, and the Fenton Booo-merang had met its end a few months ago after an incident with Danny's occasional-pet-ghost-dog Cujo. (It was never really meant to be used as a chew toy.) Tucker and Sam had returned home empty-handed with only the hope that the missing ghost half would wake up and find his way home.
In the meantime, human Danny seemed to be just fine, and Jazz had to admit she couldn't find any variation in his personality after the treatment. In fact, if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she would never have believed she now had a second little brother.
Danny was a bit puzzled by all the fuss. He was just glad he had made it through the operation unharmed and was feeling more normal than a boy who had spent the last two years of his life half-dead had any right to be. He hadn't gotten a chance to see what the reformation of his ghost energy looked like exactly, but it bugged him that his mom would go to such lengths to retrieve what was likely nothing more than cast off ectoplasmic power.
It seemed to the slightly jaded Danny that even his own mother was more concerned about some magical boy with ghost powers than her own tangible son standing right next to her…Even after he found a way to rid himself of the shadow Danny Phantom cast over his life, the ghost had managed to come back to haunt him.
Danny refused to allow himself to despair too much about it, though. Even if the phantom half returned to the city, he would still have what he wanted. A normal life, his loving family and friends, the chance to wake up in the morning and not worry about who would engage him in mortal combat today, and—best off all—privacy.
After all, the news and media wanted 'Danny Phantom, fighter of crime and the paranormal,' not 'Danny Fenton, average teen.' Whatever the outcome of this last loose end, he would never have to step into the boots of the put-upon hero ever again.
Still, a small part of him wondered if the remnants of his ghost half was doing all right on his own. Considering how powerful they had been together and the relative non-lethality of the Ghost Zone to full ghosts, he could assume Phantom was just fine.
Maybe his ghost half would find a life of his own in the Ghost Zone. If Danny deserved a new chance at life, Phantom most certainly did too…Provided their mother didn't find him and drag him back to the human world first...
Neon green lights swirled around him, following the same invisible current carrying the boy's limp body drifting through the Ghost Zone. His eyes, glazed due to the drugs still coursing through his system, trailed these eerie lights as they danced across the black and purple background. A barely visible face in a green glob of light growled at the boy and released a high-pitched screech.
It might have been a rather traumatic experience had the teen's mind not been about as lucid as his body. His first thought upon awakening from his drug-induced state was, Ohh…pretty colors…followed promptly by blacking out again.
The second time he regained power of thought, the blob was gone and he had enough time to wonder where he was and why there were so many doors floating around. Shouldn't gravity be pushing them down? He finally reached the conclusion he was in some kind of new-age door factory when, once again, the anesthetic claimed him.
The third time he awoke his thoughts were more on himself. He was convinced he had a name, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was.
Testing his physical abilities first, he flexed his fingers and then pulled his arms in, tucking them against his chest. So far so good. His chest muscles tightened as he sat forward, but the zero gravity in this place meant the motion went further than it should. He somersaulted involuntarily in midair before he managed to right himself. He groaned as the first wave of nausea hit. Spinning around right after being pumped full of drugs was never a good idea.
Deciding that moving was overrated, he slumped in a reclining position, but not before he happened to look down and notice the strange symbol on his chest. With nothing better to do until his tummy settled, his thoughts focused around it.
Something in the back of his mind told him it was a letter…the letter D…yes, that was it. He also had the feeling it had something to do with a name. His name. Maybe it started with a D? Dustin, Drew, David…no, none of those sound right…Drake? Ohh, that has a ring to it. I bet my name is Drake.
Satisfied with this conclusion, he turned to the more pressing question of just who the person attached to that name was. He scanned his brain for answers, but nothing tangible came within reach, and chasing wispy memories just made him sleepy.
Not seeing a reason to remain awake, he closed his eyes. He could worry about it later. The empty void around him was rather soothing…like a sense of belonging…Energy radiated from the very air (or what passed as air here) and soaked into his form, reenergizing it the same way a human might feel energized lounging in the sun of a bright summer day.
While he rested, the natural currents of energy began to buffer his unmoving form, pushing him towards the little corner of the Zone where everything that is lost eventually ends up. His form came to a halt when he settled on a floating island of detached gray rock, landing in a slumped position at the foot of a large mountain of lost objects, a diverse mix of junk ranging from left socks to the odd toaster.
Mostly the dump heap was left alone to rot, but sometimes ghosts would visit it, looking for objects that matched their obsession. A certain corrugated cardboard evil doer was one such scavenger, although he had already picked most of this heap clean of box-like containers and was having trouble finding more to add to his collection.
A groan like someone awakening with a pounding headache echoed up the mountain, but the Box Ghost ignored it in favor of inspecting a beautifully shaped, exceptionally angled metal box. The ghost pursed his lips and passed his hands over the box's 90 degree angled corners. It would have been perfect, the grand box to end all boxes, if not for the metallic material.
The Box Ghost turned his nose up at the box and tossed it over his shoulder. It sailed to the base of the mountain, bouncing off random microwaves and old suitcases on its way down.
"Oww!"
The sharp cry made the Box Ghost freeze with his hands still on a torn piece of bubble wrap. Slowly, cautiously—bravely! The Box Ghost fears nothing!—he twisted his body and looked down.
The white haired boy shoved the metal box off his stomach, glaring at the container even as it floated away. Thanks to the rude awakening, he was more aware of his surroundings and was able to sense he was being stared at. He lifted his own eyes to meet those of a stout-looking man perched on a mountain of junk.
The two ghosts stared in silence a moment before the boy's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth. "Hey, who are—"
"YOU!" the Box Ghost shouted. He floated off the heap of objects and pointed a single finger down at the wide-eyed boy. "You could not wait for my next MAGNIFICENT PLOT to spread DOOM and DESTRUCTION to your PATHETIC PLACE of…DWELLING! You've come here to stop me before I have even begun! Your desperate attempt has failed because I am doing nothing! So go! Shoo!"
The boy had just managed to pick his jaw off the floor when the Box Ghost flew off in the opposite direction. He gasped and scrambled after the ghost, struggling to force his hands and legs to obey him. "W-wait!" he shouted. "Hey! Wait! How—" The Box Ghost vanished behind another pile of junk, and the boy dropped to his knees again, his arms hanging limply at his sides. "How are you flying?" he whispered.
The Box Ghost pressed his back against a refrigerator, grumbling under his breath. Danny Phantom had followed him to his treasure trove. If Phantom thought he could seize the Box Ghost's source of riches without a fight, he was fatally mistaken, and he, the mighty Box Ghost, would make him pay for his transgression! …When the boy least expected it!
Nodding to himself, the box obsessed ghost poked his head over the refrigerator and peered down at the white haired ghost some distance away. Phantom had his hands placed on the ground and was now attempting to stand on his feet by pulling his knees against his chest, only to overbalance and fall on his rear-end.
This didn't deter him for long, and a few minutes and a few failed attempts later, Phantom stood on his own. His legs visibly shook from the strain and his arms were held out to either side for balance, but his smile was pure triumph.
The Box Ghost's lips turned down, his eyebrows pinching in confusion. This was abnormal behavior for the famous savior of two worlds. It was a trick! He was trying to lure the Box Ghost into complacency!
Phantom stepped forward, only for his leg to give out on him and send him falling forward.
…Or maybe something really was wrong with the boy.
The Box Ghost crawled a little closer to the edge, improving his vantage point. He watched as Phantom once again stood and attempted to walk towards the other ghost's hiding place. After a few steps, he fell. This time, Phantom crawled a few paces before struggling to walk again.
"Hey!" Phantom yelled, and the Box Ghost instinctively ducked his head. "Are you still there? Please, I…I just have some questions!"
"What could you possibly want from the BOX Ghost?" demanded said ghost. He floated a little further above the mountain of objects, frowning down at the boy.
"I…" Phantom swallowed and stood straighter. "How…how are you doing that?"
"Whatever it is about my might that is confusing you, I am able to do it because I am the BOX GHOST."
"Can…" The ghost's green eyes lit with excitement, an eager smile tracing his lips. "Can you teach me how?"
If the Box Ghost wasn't confused before, he was flummoxed now. He hid it by puffing out his chest. "Why should I teach my NEMESIS how to be as POWERFUL as me?"
Phantom frowned. "Nemesis? Do I know you?"
"Of COURSE you know the GREAT BOX GHOST! How DARE you pretend to not know the most feared ghost in the Ghost Zone!"
So that's where we are, the boy thought. The Ghost Zone… He shoved the thought aside to be dealt with later. He stepped forward—carefully balancing on his drugged legs—and smiled persuasively at the ghost. "If that's the case, surely you can show me how to fly…unless the Great Box Ghost doesn't think he can handle it…"
"Nonsense! Of COURSE I, the GREAT and AWESOME Box Ghost, can teach you ANYTHING!"
"Even how to fly?"
The Box Ghost placed his hands on his hips, smiling smugly. "You are so awed by my AWESOMENESS, you have forgotten the most basic ghost power! Yes! I CAN teach you how to fly! Observe…" The ghost flew off in a random direction and then circled back around to the dump heap. Phantom's jaw had dropped and he was now staring at the Box Ghost in awe, causing the elder ghost to puff his chest out. "Now you."
"How exactly?"
The Box Ghost paused, his lips pursed in thought. He pointed to the right and said, "Run to the edge and jump off."
Phantom's jaw snapped shut, and now he was staring at him like he'd lost his mind. "What? Are you nuts?"
"I am the BOX GHOST! Do as I say!"
Phantom looked anything but obedient, but he did turn to face the edge. Swallowing, he took a hesitant step forward…and then another…and another…
"I said RUN!"
At the shout, the boy gasped and jumped forward, his sluggish legs pounding the ground as he ran. A few times he stumbled, but it felt amazing to use his body again, the sluggish feeling in his limbs dissipating with each step. Because of his speed, the edge approached faster than he would have liked. The boy clenched his eyes shut, gathered his courage, and at the last possible second, leapt off the island.
After a moment, the ghost boy opened his eyes to find himself hanging motionless in midair. He squeaked and pin wheeled his arms, his legs flailing for purchase.
"Not like that!" the Box Ghost shouted as he flew over beside him. He placed his hands on the other ghost's back and shoved him forward. "Move with the currents!"
The boy flapped his arms reflexively until the Box Ghost snapped at him to stop. He continued to push the clueless ghost boy forward until the muscles on the boy's back relaxed and he started moving under his own power. Smiling, the Box Ghost backed away, allowing Phantom to float off on his own.
It was a few seconds before Phantom realized the Box Ghost was no longer helping him and that he was flying by himself. A grin stretched his lips. Adrenaline—or what passed as adrenaline—fueled his veins, and the boy took off like a rocket, zooming past mountain heaps and performing loops through the air, all the while laughing. He wasn't sure how he was flying—or why he felt the need to hold his arms out and make airplane noises—and, honestly, he was afraid if he thought too hard about it the instinct would leave him.
The Box Ghost watched Phantom fly around the Lost Islands, a contemplative frown on his face. The Ghost Boy had always been a skilled flier. One of the best in the Ghost Zone, it was said. Clearly Phantom was enjoying himself, and he flew at a speed few ghosts could hope to match, but his turns weren't as sharp as before and his legs had yet to merge into a tail.
The frown grew on the Box Ghost's face before he shook his head. Phantom was just playing. If the box-obsessed ghost attacked him with all the rejected material scattered around here, the boy would be forced to fly at his best.
His frown turned into a wicked smile as the Box Ghost considered the idea.
His thoughts were interrupted, however, when Phantom flew at him and halted inches from his face.
"This is great!" the boy yelled. "What else can you teach me?"
The Box Ghost fell back a step, blinking in surprise. "Uh…what?" Again, he shook off his confusion and straightened his spine. "I mean, WHAT DO YOU WISH TO KNOW?"
"Everything!" Phantom flew circles around him, grinning from ear-to-ear. "I want to know everything you do!"
"You wish to be as awesome as the Box Ghost?" the elder ghost questioned, blinking. He puffed out his chest, his ego growing. "No ghost could POSSIBLY be as AWESOME and as AMAZING as THE Box Ghost! But I shall make you the SECOND most awesome ghost around!"
Phantom twirled around in a circle, his arm outstretched above his head. "Yes!"
"NEXT lesson!" the Box Ghost shouted, and Phantom stopped spinning. "How to install FEAR and TERROR in your enemies!"
Phantom nodded his head repeatedly, starring at the other ghost with an eager smile.
"Repeat after me…" The Box Ghost cleared his throat and then held his hands above his head. "BEWARE!"
The ghost boy nodded, cleared his throat and then shouted, "Beware!"
"NO!" the other ghost said. "LOUDER! From your GUT! Use your hands!"
Phantom copied the Box Ghost's pose and wiggled his fingers. "BEWARE!"
"EXCELLENT!
"Excellent!"
"FEAR me!"
"Fear me!"
"LOUDER!"
"FEAR ME!"
"That's it!" the Box Ghost said. "Now…we PRACTICE!" He flew down to the mountain of objects and shouted at a lampshade to beware.
Laughing, the boy followed his example by flying over to a different hill. A green rat poked its head out of a dented soup can and gazed up at him. "FEAR ME!" he shouted at it. The rat hissed, barring its fangs, then ducked back inside the can. The boy chuckled and moved onto a lopsided bookshelf. "BEWARE!" A broken mirror. "FEAR me!" A busted computer screen. "FEAR ME AND MY…what is that?"
A pumpkin sat at an angle between the busted monitor and a toaster oven, the pointy end of a green sword jammed inside the pumpkin's crown. The boy pressed a hand to his temple, frowning as fuzzy images pressed against his skull. He tried to chase the images, to make sense of them, but the more he grasped for them, the further away they got. All he caught was the tail end, wispy memories of a dark knight shouting about avenging his liege, a desperate search for a pumpkin, and this green sword held in his own white-gloved hands.
So this sword was his…or it had been his at one point. At the very least, the sword was a piece of his past. The boy reached for the hilt, excitement making his fingers tingle. It may be able to unlock some of his memories…and it was such a cool looking sword…
The Box Ghost spun around, wondering why his pupil—no, his minion! Minion had a better ring to it—had gone silent. He caught sight of Phantom's hand inching towards a pumpkin-embedded-sword, and had he a heart, it would have skipped a beat. "No!" he yelled. He flew as fast as he could towards Phantom. "You should not dare to touch that!"
Phantom's hand closed around the hilt and in one swift move he ripped the sword from the pumpkin. The Box Ghost collided with his shoulder, tore the sword from the surprised boy, and tried to stab it into the pumpkin again, but it was already too late.
A green whirlwind emanated from the pumpkin knocking the two ghosts into a bookshelf, a crack of lighting split the air. A second later the area around where the pumpkin had been resting promptly exploded, sending discarded objects flying in all directions. Phantom shielded his eyes behind a forearm, until a high pitched squeaking made him look up again, just in time to see the a colony of bats flying right above his head.
With a terrified cry phantom slumped lower against the bookshelf, shivering a little when he felt the presence of something large and powerful looming over him. Slowly he gazed up and saw none other than the Fright Knight standing over them.
"I. Am. Free!" the ghost exclaimed.
The Box Ghost gulped and shoved the sword back into Phantom's hands. "HE did it!" he shouted and then dove behind the bookshelf.
Fright Knight's eyes landed on Phantom and widened. "YOU!"
The boy gulped, hugging the sword to his chest. "M-me?"
The knight grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him up to his level, glaring into his green eyes through the slits in his helmet. "Fool! A second time you have freed me! Are you this eager to face your demise at my hands or are you truly as unintelligent as Plasmius claimed?"
The boy trembled in the ghost's hold, his mouth working silently a moment before he managed to find his voice. "Umm…uh…hi, mister knight person…A-are you sure you don't have me confused with some other guy?"
"Never will I forget the face of the one who defeated my lieges and imprisoned me in that blasted pumpkin!" The Fright Knight shook Phantom by his suit, growling deep in his throat, before he threw the boy into the bookshelf. "Prepare yourself, whelp. Your end is at hand…"
"Wait!" The Box Ghost appeared before the Fright Knight and Phantom. "You cannot harm my minion!"
"Your minion?" the medieval ghost echoed in disbelief. "The child is too powerful to ally himself with a weak fool like you! What is the meaning of this?"
"I am the BOX GHOST! I—"
"Enough!" The Fright Knight shoved the Box Ghost aside and pointed an iron-clad finger at Phantom. "Explain yourself, Phantom!"
The boy sunk against the bookshelf, his eyes wide as he clutched the glowing sword to his chest. "Ph-Phantom?" he asked.
"That is your name, boy, now answer me!"
"B-but I don't know how!" Phantom yelled. "I don't…I don't know anything…You must have the wrong guy because I don't know you!"
The Fright Knight narrowed his eyes, contemplating the cowering boy before him. As he watched, Phantom's green eyes darted to the Box Ghost, as if seeking guidance. He held the Soul Shredder carelessly against his chest, as if he were unaware of the danger the razor-sharp edge presented to his peace of mind. When the boy's eyes returned to his face, all Fright Knight saw in his expression was fear and confusion.
Slowly, an unseen smile crossed the Fright Knight's lips as a world of possibilities opened up before him. "Is that so…"
Tangi: Hello, everyone, and welcome to our first experiment to see if Trance and I can work together to make awesome Pitch Pearl fan fiction. If you happened to notice the change in style that's because this is indeed a co-write. That basically means that we worked on the chapter together.
Theoretically this should mean that its better, but you know what they say about to many cooks in the kitten… ah well, I suppose it's up to you the reader to decide.
Also this just in, anyone who wants to get the latest updates on all out Pitch Peal fan fiction (or just loves Pitch Pearl in general) we've set up a blog on Tumblr that is updated Daily (kind of…okay, not really)
pitch-pearl-chicks . tumblr . com
So look us up there if you want to see what we're working on this week. We also have extra stuff that's too shot or too silly to post anywhere else, and we feature cute Pitch Pearl pictures we didn't draw from Trance's secret collection.
Anyway~ we have a whole lot planned for this fan fiction and many others. With any luck, you will be seeing great things coming from team Tangi-Trance~
Trance: Hard to believe, but this story was spawned from a discarded plot idea by Tangi. We started bouncing ideas around it, the monster steadily growing until it was just too epic an idea to forget. Hopefully, you guys will think so too.
We're both a bit iffy about the DannyxSam argument up there (feels overly dramatic) but if we agonize over it any longer we'll really kill this chapter. Yikes. It may have dragged a bit, but we needed to explain why Danny was separating himself again so soon after his last attempt in Phantom Planet. Let us know if it was believable. Actually, let us know your thoughts about this chapter period ^-^
Unless you have a specific question for me (which I don't advise. I am very lazy about reviews as some of you know xD), Tangi will reply to the reviews for this chapter. I get next chapter.
Also, as a warning, the story is T right now, but the rating will go to M later. Although it won't come for a long time, we advise younger readers and shaky Pitch Pearl fans to tread carefully.
That's it for now. Please review ^-^ ...and Enjoy the cliffhanger ;)