Beyond Beasts
A Danny Phantom fanficiton by Catalystofthesoul.

Prepared for Anything
(except for that)

1

There are some things which, in the absence of context, have little to no significance in the grand scheme. To think of these small details as consequential is a paralyzing act; a trap that turns each choice into a decision between Life and Death.

Danny leaned on a wall.

It smelled like sulfur, or an aftertaste of sulfur, a smell that wasn't a smell so much as it was an overall presence. He attributed this to the nearly invisible reflection of scales dancing in sunlight, which upon closer inspection formed the outline of a thin fish that plucked at molding sandwiches on top of the compost. Danny let out a small sound; more of a high-pitched hum that went above human hearing. The fish twitched to look at him, gills flaring.

"What're you talking to?"

Tucker scared the fish away. Weighed down with a spectacular canvas backpack, he approached with his legs bowed and body folded to accommodate the load. His lips were pressed together with the exertion of carrying it uphill; he shrugged the bag off and let it crash in a dusty cloud. Tucker wiped a hand across his forehead. He considered the compost with the wary kind of disposition one had when random things made a habit of coming to life to feast on the living. "Nothing." Danny crouched by Tucker's bag. "I hope you didn't break this."

Tucker snorted. He assessed the treeline that stretched endlessly beyond the compost before addressing Danny. "Your parents make bricks, Danny. I'm pretty sure it could fall a hundred feet and survive. Did you find a power outlet?"

Danny gestured to a little grey box painted olive green to blend in with the wooden slats of the outdated kitchen. Tucker nodded and pulled a bulky black and silver rectangular device from his bag. It was bound in a cage of iron, spotted with welding scars that bubbled across the surface, and even inactive produced a low technological hum; this is the true hallmark of a Fenton masterpiece. It used to be a guitar amplifier, though it hardly resembled that now. Danny dropped to his knees, he pulled a folded piece of notebook paper from his pocket and inspected the panel where the iron cage parted just enough to reach a series of knobs and switches.

The controls were archaic by modern Fenton standards, but highly adjustable. Danny scanned the labels he'd assigned each dial and compared them to the notes in his hand. "I'm glad we're thinking ahead now." Tucker plugged their extension cord into the wall. "Nice to have a safe place to run if stuff goes haywire. Even nicer when the safe place is a kitchen."

Danny flipped a switch with a copper vein running through it, goosebumps raced down his arms. Ghost shields never felt nice; even in his human form the electromagnetic pulse it emit made him deeply uncomfortable. He grit his teeth. He had to slip closer to his ghost half so that his vision sharpened and the edges of the shield became visible to him - he wasn't ghost enough to activate his change, but enough for the air to start stinging him while he adjusted the size of the shield to encompass as much of the kitchen as possible. Tucker didn't comment on the fact that his friend was suddenly glowing, but he did do a cursory check over his shoulder and shoved his hands in his pockets. Casual.

Danny turned the knobs, discomfort settled deep in his gut while the shield surrounded him. "Did you notice Dash is here?" he asked to distract himself.

"Yeah, he's in my dorm group. He seemed eager to ignore us."

Danny shrugged. "Still gonna be hell, though."

"I seriously think we've dealt with worse."

They had, but Danny still hoped they'd have a peaceful time in the woods before going home to fight ghosts. Dash's arrival tipped him off that he was about to have a typical streak of Fenton Bad Luck. "Well." He sighed. "I got this to cover half the mess hall. Widest range I can give it while sustaining enough strength to take a pounding from what will probably be a lake monster or something."

"A lake monster. At summer camp." Tucker rolled his eyes. "Sounds a little cliché."

"Remember the mummy we found in a museum?"

"Point."

"One more minute…" Danny adjusted the controls to shift the shield's perimeter towards the mess hall so it wasn't centered to the shield; this left the compost and garbage bins outside of its range. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled when the ghost fish from before drifted back to the compost, sinking on top of it with relief. Soft whispers of ghostspeak touched his supernatural hearing while the creature murmured to the garbage.

A shrill, piercing wail broke his concentration. Danny yelped and slammed his hands over his ears, recoiling. "Fuck!" Human, human, human… The lights in his eyes faded, the shine on his skin went away, and the shrill noise repeated as the sharp pierce of a tin whistle. Danny got up off the ground, annoyed. Tucker gave him a look of pity. "Ghost ears?"

"I just wasn't expecting it." He brushed himself off and went towards the stupid sound, convincing his heart to stop racing. Mixing ghost abilities with his human form tended to overstimulate his senses, and now everything was too bright and too loud. The whistle sounded again when they rounded the hall and walked between two cabins to a circular mound and a flag pole. Boys gathered in clusters. Tucker placed a hand on his shoulder when Danny continued to flinch. "You gotta calm down."

"I am calm."

Danny's counselor, Troy, stood in the center of the ring of cabins, a whistle in his mouth and a megaphone in his hand. He stood on top of a milk crate with his hands on his hips, whistling over and over again until the crowd gathered close enough to satisfy him. The other counselors urged their charges to shut up, pay attention, put their phones away…

Tucker slipped his phone in his pocket and stood at the edge with Danny, looking his best friend over to make sure he was human. Danny gave him a scowl. "I'm in control." He whispered.

Tucker finished checking him over by staring deeply into his eyes, searching for traces of ectoenergy. "...Yeah, you're clear."

"I said I was clear."

"And I agreed."

"Welcome to Camp Algernon!" Troy announced, wiping a hand through his short black hair and sweeping his gaze over the crowd. "Okay, so, Jason's handing out schedules. If you don't already know, he's the counselor for C and D groups, and this is Malcolm, he's got E and F,"

They were given schedules on blindingly pink sheets of paper. Troy held aloft a white ball. "So now you're settled we're gonna go down to the beach and play some volleyball!"

Tucker nudged him. "Schedule says we get free time till dinner."

"I guess free time means go and get humiliated in sports." Danny shrugged, pocketing the schedule.

"I doubt you're the who's gonna be humiliated."

The volleyball net was set distant enough from the water that the sand wasn't damp, but it was still soft and pebble-free. Down beyond the net, there were picnic tables, then water. The water stretched to a far treeline and sourced a cooling breeze.

Danny considered the way his skin was patterned with scars so faded it was almost as if he had never had them, but he knew that a simple change and a flash of light would make them more apparent. The discomfort began in his gut and spread to flush across his bare chest. Danny pulled at his shirt, a cloth in his hands, and twisted it over and over again. Tucker, the picture of indifference, was busy with a recycled version of Pac Man on his phone. "I hate being on the skins team." Danny muttered, crossing his arms to hide the scars which logically only he could see. He glanced at Tucker's phone, trying to distance himself from creeping anxiety.

"Don't." Tucker took a full step away.

Where Danny hated exposing his body, Tucker hated sharing screens. His phone was meant for his eyes, and unless if he willingly shared it, no one else's. After ten years of friendship, Danny wanted to complain about the quality of their relationship when a whistle blew and set his teeth on edge. He rubbed his ears. "I'm going to crush that whistle before this trip is over." He glared at Troy.

"Eh. I'll help you give it a proper burial."

"In the fiery depths of Hell?'

"Sure."

Teams formed on each side of the net, Danny watching the shirts gather with envy. He snagged Tucker's elbow and dragged him over to their team, kicking off his shoes to get the sand out of them. An entire week on this lake was supposed to be kind of nice, relaxing, and yet now he had to deal with having his shirt off, scars exposed, and maybe someone would be able to look close enough, maybe someone would notice and start to ask about where they came from… "Oh man, Fenton's on our team?" Dash Baxter, far more impressive without a shirt than with one, wasn't pleased. "It's bad enough I have to spend the whole week with you but now we're going to lose points because of it?"

Danny had the decency to pretend Dash didn't exist. He and Tucker moved as far from the net as they could while still considered 'participants', hoping that beach volleyball had a loose application of rules that allowed slackers to be overlooked. To their vast excitement, Dash Baxter didn't seem to think they deserved any safety at all. He marched right up to them, ball under his arm. "You're first serve." He said, holding out the ball.

Danny blinked. "Me?"

"Does it look like I'm talking to anybody else, Fentina?"

"Why?"

Dash shoved the ball into his hands. Danny opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what he was supposed to make of it. "Hit the ball over the net and that's it. Don't try to be a hero, and don't get in my way."

Dash moved away, but he still felt close, as if he were still standing over him, inspecting all the shadows on his skin. Something crawled up his throat and filled it, cutting off his air. They were all looking at him now, they had to be, wondering if something supernatural had taken over Danny's body like a parasite. They were probably - "Fenton!" Danny flinched and dropped the ball. He shook his head, glancing. Dash was scowling at him, but his voice was softer. "Hit the ball over the net, Fenton. It's not gonna bite you."

He recovered the ball and nodded, taking a deep breath.

He served.

With a smack the ball soared up over the net, over the heads of the opposing team, beyond the picnic tables and fire pit, over patches of pebbles and grass, and slammed into the lake with a resounding thunderclap. It bobbed there on the surface, small and far away. A flush, red and embarrassed, crept up his neck and into his cheeks; while the teams were distracted by just how far the ball had just gone, Danny leapt into action. "I'll get it!" He shouted, sand flying behind him as he ran.

In a perfect world they'd all be statues, too stunned to go after him, but they weren't. The heavy landing of feet chased him all the way to the water's edge, only stopping when Danny raced into the water. The volleyball wasn't far; he waded up to his hips and grabbed it, then turned around. Dash stood at the edge of the lake, water soaking his sandals. Danny considered himself, in wet shorts now, and moved slowly back to Dash to give him the ball. "Weird, huh?" He tried to shake the water off his legs. "Beginner's luck, I guess."

His shorts clung to his thighs.

"You're terrible at volleyball." Dash took the ball from him; frowning, calculating. Danny waited, not entirely sure what could make him more exposed; he glanced back at the match. People were waiting, staring at him, and his stomach flipped. They wouldn't stop looking at him for the rest of the day. Or the rest of the week. Maybe they would never stop thinking about him, what he was, what he'd done. They'd whisper about him, make his skin crawl. He'll feel their emotions shift every time he enters a room, to fear, hostility, hatred - "You don't look so good, Fenton."

Danny flinched. Dash was still staring. "Sorry?"

"Are you sick or something?"

He didn't answer because he didn't know what the answer would even be. Dash waited for a reply; Danny managed a shrug.

"I think you should take a break. Get some water."

"That's awfully nice of you." Danny folded his arms over his chest and attempted to be defensive, but he began to shiver. It wasn't helpful.

Dash rolled his eyes and walked away, marching back up to the volleyball nets. Tucker was there, in front of everyone, as if ready to run over and check to see if Danny was being human enough today. The thought made him believe he might actually get sick. He bit his lip and went uphill, if anything to avoid Tucker's concern, and went to the collection of disjointed cabins. They were all built at different times, with the styles of different eras determining their architecture. The mess hall was painted army green and had a wide porch, while the cabin beside it had panels of light-colored wood with pink doors and window frames.

He entered the cafeteria on edge. Ghost shields may be useful, but this one still set his hairs standing up when he walked through it to get to the public fridge. Opening it, he crouched to inspect shelves of lunch meats and rows of gatorade. Danny shuffled things around, searching for a normal bottle of water. There were juice boxes, a sealed green bowl, ketchup...

Wood creaked, though from a distance. Danny shifted from human hearing to something sharper. Beating drums - hearts - and the grinding of metal against itself alerted him to turn around and face the opening door, the light from outside blinding. Danny blinked, recalling his ghost half. Human. The light adjusted, the pounding of hearts left his ears, and the sandy scent of mold drifted away. "Uhh. Hey."

Troy came in and stopped at the first table, looking Danny up and down. "What're you doing up here? You're supposed to be at the beach." Danny would have happily replied with a smooth, well-rehearsed lie, but behind Troy entered a man in a fancy polo and another with a white button-up and the world's most recognizable scowl.

Danny crashed into the fridge in his haste to step back; it wobbled dangerously.

Vlad glanced first at the dust steadily falling from the ceiling and followed its path down to the boy trapped against the back of the room. He quirked an eyebrow and, very typically, grinned. "Daniel! What a surprise." He stepped beyond the counselor, flinching the moment he walked through the ghost shield and nearly losing his footing. Vlad stopped abruptly, glaring at the place where the shield began, and then turned to unleash that same glare on Danny.

"What're you doing here?" Danny snapped, accusatory.

"I'd ask you the same question." Vlad straightened. "You're not the type to stray from your nest."

"Wow, and the fruitcake learns I have a life." Danny snapped, digging a gatorade out of the fridge. He settled on yellow not-water for the sole reason that anything was better than sticking around. His chest flushed warm, still unclothed, and his shorts dripped down naked legs. Vlad had the exact type of eyesight that could identify every scar on him and the privilege of having put some of them there. It made his stomach twist.

Troy moved up beside Vlad, clearly confused. "Hey, uh, kid. Daniel."

"Danny."

"Danny. You need to go back to the beach now, alright? Not supposed to wander off."

"Yeah, I was just leaving." He moved past Vlad; his ghost half, riled by Vlad's presence, was forcibly shut down when he walked through the shield giving Danny more than a little shock. He ground his teeth.

"Have fun, Daniel."

"Don't talk to me."

The screen door squeaked when Danny threw it open and marched into the afternoon heat. The volleyball game was in full swing on the beach, and didn't appear to have room for him anymore. This suited Danny just fine. He sat down on a log beside the fire pit to watch, propping his chin on his hands. There had to be a reason Vlad was here. It was probably evil. It probably had to do with him. It was definitely going to be painful. Tucker ended up beside him, covered in sweat, while a skinny kid from upstate replaced him - only to slam the ball under the net and make the whole skins team groan. "What's the point of a boy's camp?" Tucker muttered, putting his phone into battery-save mode.

Danny gave him the gatorade. "You heard Sam. It's a ruse to bring us all to our misogynistic deaths. Guess who's here."

"Walker?" Tucker perked up. Ghost hunting was a lot more satisfying than volleyball.

"It's -" He hesitated. "Vlad."

"Oh."

Tucker went from mild excitement right back to destroying asteroids on his phone. "That sucks."

"What? Not even mild apprehension? Vlad's here, up to something? Nefarious somethings?"

Tucker lost his game. He hit start on the next one. "Vlad's kind of your territory, Danny. It's not like he's a ghost we can really hunt, and he's definitely not a ghost you'll let me hunt. If you go missing, I know what to do and who to call and stuff, but…" Tucker lost again and sighed. "If I freak out I'm going to act, and if I act you freak out. It sucks. It really does, and I'll do my best to help you figure it out, but, I mean, when he threatens you you don't even tell us about it."

"Because he's dangerous, Tucker!"

"I'm not denying that. I'm just saying you've made him your business and yours only. So if you need me to help, I'm here, but don't expect me to go all overprotective-Sam on you." Tucker scowled. "You'd hate that anyway."

Danny watched the game, making it a point to fume. The first match disbanded when one of the shirts kicked the ball into the picnic tables; instead of retrieving it for the millionth time everyone just broke up for snacks and chatter. Danny's gaze followed Dash putting on a shirt, thinking out loud. "If Vlad's here it's got to do with me."

"We should move the shield to your dorm." Tucker replied sensibly. "At least that will make kidnapping you more of a challenge."

"We didn't bring that shield here to protect me, Tuck, it's for everyone else. And he already knows we have a shield." Danny allowed himself an indulgent smirk. "Nearly fell over when he walked into it."

"Hilarious."

Danny was a little offended Tucker hadn't given his concern as much attention as it deserved. "If he decides to kidnap me a shield won't really do much. He'll find a way. He'll threaten you, or everyone. Play on the fact that I'm a decent human being. He might have just come all the way up here to mess with me. Or distract me. He's gotta be doing something big." He folded his arms. Tucker was insanely good at ignoring his tapping foot. Danny huffed and left to find and put on a shirt. When he got back, Tucker put his phone away. "Are you gonna talk about it?"

"About Vlad?"

"No." Tucker glanced at the boys gathering around his counselor, Malcolm.

Danny glared. "You're going to need to clarify."

"About you always getting paranoid out of your socks when we leave Amity."

"Is that? I - I -" They weren't going to have this conversation again. "I do not! There's - Dash is here." He ticked them off on his fingers. "Vlad is here. Dash was - I dunno, being nice or something. There's a cool breeze right now and it's June. Two of my greatest human enemies and you're not even - you're playing Fruit Ninja!"

"Conspiracy theories don't generally help paranoia. I'm trying to be a voice of reason here."

Danny fumed. "Or a voice that moans 'it's none of my business' while his best friend gets pulped."

"You know that isn't true."

"Do I?" Tense, overlapping silence constricted around his shoulders. He only broke it because they'd have to wait for Tucker's cell phone to die before Danny could win that contest. "I'm going for a walk," he announced.

Tucker launched an angry bird at a pig. "Kay. Come back soon; they're making burgers. And don't get into any weird ghost stuff without me."

"Mmm." Danny shoved on a pair of shoes and frowned at the sensation of sand mushing up against his toes. "Unless it's Vlad?"

"Obviously."

"Great."

The day was starting to fade from afternoon into evening. There were bugs everywhere, in hazy clouds just above the water. Tall pine trees dominated the area, making the ground into nothing but an orange nest of dry needles. He followed a couple of thin animal paths through some prickly bushes, then moved uphill away from the lake. It was cooler the farther he walked, the colder air fed into his ghost core, pleasing in sensation. He sat down when he found a big rock to perch on.

He had become surrounded by the strange quiet of trees; evening sunlight kissed dust between the branches, filling the forested area with glowing beams. Surreal mushrooms grew out of rotting wood, and the dry grass of the forest floor rustled in the evening wind. It was getting to be twilight; the veil between realms wore thin. His ghost half flared just a little, flushing his body with sharper sense and control. In front of him, on a patch that was mostly broken red rock and prickly weeds, a white mist slowly materialized into the shape of a fawn sniffing at the ground. The forest was dense with all kinds of life, even ghost life.

If anyone could call it that.

The fawn turned, red eyes meeting his, probably sensing what lay under Danny's skin. It trembled. Danny let the soft hum of ghost speech rise from his gut and into his voice, echoing around the trees as some forgotten ancient language. The deer took a step back, ears flattening. It replied in kind, its shaken ghostspeak smelling like rain and tasting like salt. Danny tried to interpret the question that was more a feeling of vague apprehension than a cohesive thought. He replied, to the best of his ability, speaking in emotion and sensation.

The ghost's fur moved in a breeze that pulled in the opposite direction of the wind. It went back to grazing, or at least the memory of what grazing was like, little hooves hovering an inch above the earth. Danny let the accomplishment of getting a little ghost to trust him warm him from his stomach to his toes. He watched it move, tiny tail twitching and sniffing at everything. It lifted its head, peering at Danny or - beyond Danny, at something that was both nearby and far away. It turned and abruptly fled, getting two wide bounds away before it vanished once more into a thin mist that merged with the forest.

His ghost sense hadn't gone off.

Danny pushed off his rock and rubbed his head, feeling an ache start to form right behind his eyes, and spun around. "What do you want?" He tried to sound as exhausted as possible.

Vlad was probably one of the only creatures in existence who could sneak up on Danny when all of his senses were arranged at high capacity. He appeared human enough, but it was exactly as it sounded; just an appearance. A facade. The both of them were. "You spoke to it."

Unamused, Danny fell into a defensive stance. "So?"

"Do you often speak to them?"

"Don't you?"

His arch nemesis looked him over from head to foot, brow furrowed. Danny, determined not to make the first move, forced himself to stay put. "Daniel." Vlad's voice was soft and full of concern. Danny found nothing in the world more irksome. "You're so thin."

"I go by Danny."

Vlad didn't give that any attention, coming closer to him. Sure, now his feet made noise. "Are you eating enough?" He pressed. "You need to take care of yourself. Your ghost is only as strong as your human half. You need to eat more."

"My meals are usually interrupted. Like my sleep. And my homework. And, incidentally, my vacations."

"I genuinely wasn't aware you were here."

"Excuse me while I suspend my belief."

Evening was falling properly now, the light slipping from the sky. Danny bet he was missing out on campfire hotdogs and s'mores. He should be getting back. Danny took a step, towards camp, and Vlad shook his head. "I know it's hard for you to grasp, but I worry. About you, often. There's a whole lot about yourself you don't know."

Danny wasn't sure how he was meant to respond to that. "Reminiscing over never giving me the hybrid birds and the bees, Vlad?"

"Daniel, I am trying to be -"

"I know. You're trying. It's weird, please stop." Danny held up his hands. "From the bottom of my heart, fruitcake, I don't care. I don't know why you're here or what you're up to yet, but I'm gonna find out, because it's bad and apparently it's my job to babysit you from doing bad things. So, before I waste my whole week dancing around the subject, you might as well tell me what the hell it is you're up to. Make our lives easier."

"Land."

Danny blinked.

"I'm here to buy a land contract." Vlad replied flatly. "It's a perfectly legal and human endeavor."

Danny rolled his eyes. He'd go into all of the reasons that was a cover-up, but then he'd have Tucker and Vlad calling him paranoid - and Vlad was far more of an asshole when he said it. He shifted in the direction of camp. "I'm gonna go eat s'mores and practice methods of sleeping with my eyes open. Stop ruining my vacation."

"I'll walk with you."

Danny folded his arms tightly and took a full stride to the left when Vlad fell into step with him. It took work to keep himself from growling over his territory like some kind of animal; Vlad watched him struggle with mild amusement. "You're truly terrible at being a hybrid."

"I have it figured out."

"You don't listen to a single one of your instincts."

"I manage, Vlad. Stop trying to be my demonic-stepfather-mentor thing. It's creepy and unappreciated."

"Falls on deaf ears, more like." Vlad teased, heat suddenly surrounding the both of them, overwhelming. Danny grew uncomfortable with the taste of foreign ectoenergy stinging his eyes and getting under his skin. "At this point I'm giving you friendly advice at arm's reach; nothing more."

"Wow. Friendly advice is what's been punching me in the face all this time? Oh man. Boy have I been wrong. Count this relationship as vastly misinterpreted." Danny scrunched up his nose. "Will you stop doing that? I can't breathe."

Vlad laughed and the hot, overbearing sensation of power drained from the air. "I don't like you, Daniel," he said, walking beside him amicably. The path ahead opened from trees into a wide expanse of hill and grass and bushes; the edge of the camp. "I'm coming to terms with not liking the only other thing in existence that understands me. It's a lot of work, and I hadn't wanted to run into you. Being around you, Daniel, it's…unfair."

Danny stopped. Vlad waited, polite. "So cloning me was your way of evening the playing field? That's how you're justifying it?"

"That wasn't a very healthy way of coping, Daniel."

"I never suggested you were healthy."

"Well." Vlad frowned. "I'm trying to be."

Danny had to process it, his heart beating more loudly than he assumed reasonable. "Are you…" He bit his lip, weighing the possibilities. It was too bizarre. "You're not like, in therapy, are you?"

"I don't believe that's your business." The forest was quieter than before, almost empty. The presence of two hybrids scaring off the living and the vastly territorial presence Vlad tended to carry with him got rid of everything else. Clouds drifted overhead, the sky dark and cool.

Danny glared. "It's totally my business. Everything you do ends up being my business eventually, if I like it or not."

"And vice versa?"

Danny shoved his hands in his pockets. They were still damp. Vlad proved impervious to the whole 'murder glare' concept, and was probably just manipulating a rise out of him. Or creating a distraction. Or something else that was more evil and ten times worse than Danny currently had capacity to imagine. "You know what? Fine. Do your creepy woods thing and don't tell me anything. I'll figure you out, Vlad. You can't stop me."

"I don't try to." Vlad smirked. Danny simmered. "Regardless, I look forward to it."

Danny moved towards camp again, disregarding how closely he was followed. "Wonderful. I'm going to go try and enjoy my vacation now."

"While sleeping with your eyes open?" Vlad mused.

"You bet your tooty-fruity ass I am."

He found Tucker manning the candy bars, as far from the bonfire as humanly possible, Danny slipped down next to him and collapsed against the picnic table as dramatically as he could. A hand rested on his back for a moment and rubbed, then went back to ripping open candy wrappers and breaking chocolate into cracker-sized bits. Their counselors seemed to have put everyone to work, and the boys who weren't assigned a specific task gathered to "watch the fire so it doesn't pop and burn things"; the counselors themselves had vanished to gather more firewood. Or deal with Vlad. Apparently that was a thing. Danny buried his head in his arms and breathed in the campy smells of smoke and sweat. "Can I have some chocolate?"

Tucker broke off a square and gave it to him, a symbol of peace and forgiveness. He was too exhausted to think of how they'd been arguing. Danny sullenly nibbled while watching Dash collect a ring of boys around the cooler. They were all lean, athletic, and wearing trademark stop-at-the-knee shorts. He was doubtless impressing himself as alpha and gathering together the strength and force of an army. Dash wasn't amongst friends; there were only six boys here from Amity, two of whom happened to be Danny and Tucker. It was slim pickings for familiar faces. The alpha wolf, separated from his pack, scavenging for a new following. "Tuck." Danny muttered. "What do you think Dash did to get roped into Algernon's Summer Camp for Boys?"

"Can't be sure, but I'm guessing it's not because he got caught dismantling his parent's weapons."

Danny flushed. "Yeah. That's probably not the case. Bet he didn't get caught sneaking in at two am, either."

"Oh my god." Tucker moaned. "They waited. By my window. How did they know to wait two stories up for me to crawl in like some kind of bandit? They just -" He bit into a full bar of chocolate, talking with his mouth full. "Parents. Think they know what's best."

Danny laughed. "Wonder what kind of trouble Dash got in. Or maybe he asked to come, maybe he wanted this."

Tucker set an empty candy wrapper on Danny's head. "No way." Danny removed the wrapper and shoved it in a plastic bag full of other trash. "Dash hates change." Tucker continued. "Hates being told what to do, where to be, when to be there. He also put himself in an environment where he has to establish himself. He's been uncomfortable since he got here."

"Uncomfortable?"

"Just look at him."

Danny looked at him; the alpha male was doing some kind of pass-around drinks and tell jokes ritual. "I don't see it." He looked like the same smug, overconfident jerk Danny always knew.

"You're uncomfortable too." Tucker added. "But it's always like that when you leave the portal behind. You get all jumpy, and start worrying about stuff that's not a big deal, like you need to be home watching for all the ghost stuff." He stacked chocolate neatly on a paper plate, making sure all the squares lined up evenly. Organized, but in this heat, getting melty. "Is it your obsession?"

Danny pulled his eyes from the carefully stacked chocolate. He wanted to bury his head in his hands all over again. "I don't think so. I don't respond to Amity like the Box Ghost responds to boxes."

Tucker lifted his eyebrows, but Danny didn't want to talk about it. He wasn't jumpy, he was fine. Being away from Amity didn't change his mind into something he couldn't control, and ghost obsession was all about losing control. And it wasn't like he didn't need to discuss his mental faculties. With anyone. Ever.

"Even Vlad has an obsession, though."

"It's different." Danny defended. "Vlad's more of a ghost than I am. I'm not obsessed with much of anything." He wanted to drop the subject, because when he thought about what he might be obsessed with it meant he had to face the idea that for some reason, because he was a ghost, he was a slave to a type of animalistic instinct. He was in control of his own mind; the instincts of a ghost had no tangible hold over him.

Tucker quietly stacked more chocolate. Danny realized, to his great embarrassment, there was a tinge of cold power sizzling in the air, making the hair on both of their arms stand up. Danny muttered an apology and pulled it back in, breathing slowly. Just when he thought he had a handle on things, it all seemed to fall away with the barest anxiety. His best friend wiped his fingers clean on a yellow towel. "Will you go put this chocolate in the cooler before it becomes a puddle?"

Tension faded, Danny sighed. "And deal with Dash? Can't I just zap it cold?"

"It's marshmallows and chocolates, not marshmallows and icicles. You're too much for this stuff. Just put it in the cooler; you owe me for using your creep sense."

He took the plate and muttered another apology. Balancing the paper plate in his hands, he made his way over to Dash Baxter and company. They were a lot like jackals, surrounding the ice chest protectively. Danny stopped and waited to be noticed, which happened too quickly. Dash adjust a black strap on his shoulder, protectively tucking a bag behind his back and looking Danny over like prey who had come with offerings of sacrament. "Hey." Danny kept his eyes on the ice chest. "I just gotta put this away. You know, before it melts."

He shifted from foot to foot. It was too silent. With a stifled sigh, Danny lifted his gaze to meet Dash's eyes. He felt under the microscope all over again. "You going hiking later, Fenton?"

Thrown, Danny tilted his head. "Huh?"

"Night hike. Tonight."

He shook his head. "I dunno, if it's on the schedule I don't think we have much of a choice."

"It's not on the schedule."

"Oh." Danny stared blankly at him. "Well, can you open the cooler?"

"Are you gonna come?"

"Me?" Danny sighed, realizing the alpha male was still hunting for a collection of followers. He must be truly desperate. "I don't think that's a great idea."

Behind Dash, there was an abnormally tall teenager with long hair that hung over his eyes. A skinny beanpole with high socks, but he held himself with privilege. "This is the kid?" His eyes were brown, he had a tattoo on his wrist. "He doesn't look like he's seen shit."

"Fenton's seen more shit than your fucked up occult grandma." Dash shot back coldly. "He's a ghost hunter."

Danny considered the thin ice Dash must be on; to be around people who aren't from Amity, who don't get a weekly reminder that ghosts exist, talking about them must be drawing him under fire. Consequently, it meant nothing good for him.

"You say that," the beanpole spoke, "but he doesn't look like he's seen shit."

Danny didn't want to get in the middle of this. He had enough ghost weirdness to deal with, he didn't need to be the camp's resident ghost hunter. "I'm just gonna put this away." He held up the plate, but Dash stepped defensively in front of the cooler.

"You're not gonna defend yourself?"

Danny shrugged.

"Fenton, he's saying you haven't seen ghosts! That they aren't real shit!" Dash was grossly offended.

He took a moment; a long, drawn moment, to pull in four seconds of air, and then eight more seconds to release it in one steady breath. May as well get this over with. "Fine. My parents are the world's most renowned ghost hunters. There is a portal to a second dimension in my basement. I've seen, fought, and been attacked by plenty of ghosts. So, for your information," he shot the tall one a look, "I've seen plenty of shit, okay? Now, open the goddamn cooler."

It opened. Hallelujah. Dash stole a piece of chocolate while Danny carefully placed it inside and snapped the lid shut. He turned around... completely surrounded by all of Dash's wonderful new friends. "So you're going hiking with us tonight?" Dash continued.

"No."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not." Danny folded his arms.

"We're meeting at the north end of camp, by the willow, after lights out." Dash pat his shoulder in a silent gesture that clearly stated be there or I will drag you there. "Bring your ghost stuff."

"All I have is a Fenton Thermos."

"Awesome."

Danny untangled himself from the cluster and went back to Tucker, who lifted his eyebrows and Danny just shook his head, collapsing next to him. "I think my enemies are planning to jump me all at once."

Tucker was attaching his phone to a mobile power cube. "I can trap Dash in an alternate dimension if we get desperate. At least, I think that's what I took from the lab before we left. It could also just be a dust vacuum."

"Knowing my family, I'd go with alternate dimension."

"It's usually my first guess." Tucker grinned. Danny rubbed his eyes, yawning. "Is it just me, or is this the least amount of supervision we've ever had at a summer camp?" Tucker nodded at the completely unattended fire by the picnic table. They hadn't seen a counselor in a while.

"Maybe it's because Vlad's trying to buy the place right now." Danny theorized.

Tucker sighed. "Of course. Fruitloop."

"Yup."

"I blame you."

"I accept the blame."

In the evening, the lake beside all the picnic tables had gone from a soft blue to a sickly black, lapping up against a rocky shore and turning into beach-like sand along a slope. The camp stretched from the lake to a hill, the cabin's now dark shadows against the dark sky, their fire in the middle of it, blinding him from seeing too far into the dark. Almost everyone had changed into pants to put up with the chill from the lake, and chatted in loose circles near the fire. Danny pretended to not watch Tucker play Temple Run while they waited for camp counselors to return with defrosted hamburgers, until he was caught and Tucker shifted to hide his screen from him. Danny nibbled on his lip. A pair of trout, just glimmering reflections of firelight, chased each other beneath and through the picnic tables. A low echoing of ghostspeak Danny wasn't being attentive enough to understand bounced between them. They swam in water that no longer existed and nipped at untouched boxes of graham crackers. Danny focused on seeing them more clearly. He breathed slowly. The fish twitched, noticing another spiritual presence and stopping. They hovered feet from him, dead eyes roving around while Danny adjusted his eyesight to see them like solid objects.

They defined slowly from transparent glimmers to white scales that flaked off when they moved. One of the trout was missing half its mouth, and the other had black, soulless eyes. Their gills opened and closed, pulling in nothing. They moved closer, fins flaring, trying to appear bigger and trying to fathom what Danny even was. His ectosignature was muted but it hummed with the vibrance and power of a full ghost.

"Hey!"

The noise racked and echoed around his head, making him flinch, his ears incapable of comprehending ghostly sensory detail in his human form. Danny snapped his eyes shut, feeling all too much of the hand that fell on his back. He recalled his ghost, forcing it back. "Hey." Tucker whispered again. Just a whisper, as bare-bones as possible. "Your skin's starting to get translucent."

"Sorry." Danny muttered, pulling himself out of it. The fish were once again nothing but glimmers in the reflection of firelight. He blinked at Tucker. "My eyes glowing?"

"Nah. They were though." His best friend frowned. "It's getting too dark to use your ghost sight. People are gonna notice. What were you looking at?" He heard the silent and why was it so important? tacked on the end.

"...Fish." Danny stated, propping his chin on the table and gesturing to them. Tucker squinted hard at something he couldn't possibly see. "They were playing."

"Kind of dumb putting a secret in jeopardy for fish."

"Couldn't help it."

Tucker sighed and put his phone away, picking at the table thoughtfully. "Look." His voice was thick and heavy with burden. "Something's up, Danny. You're not talking about it." He shifted, uncomfortable. "You know you can talk to me if something's... wrong, right? I don't think I've seen you with control issues like this since... since right after you got zapped."

Danny snorted. "It's not that bad."

"No, but it's similar."

He sighed, sitting upright. Malcolm, Tucker's councilor, joined the bonfire victorious with a box of hamburger patties to toss on a grill rack. He started instructing boys to help him set up and arrange buns and cheeses. Despite hearing every word as crisp and clear as if Malcolm were beside him, and the rustling of every blade of grass between, Danny felt distanced. Like the world, the whole world, was far removed from him. "I've been sensitive to noise and light and stuff for ages." He said softly. "But recently it's like my ghost is, I dunno, more active? Like the divide between what part of me is ghost, and what part of me isn't... it's like that gap's been getting smaller."

"Okay. Go on."

Danny shrugged helplessly. "I don't know how to put it into words. I'm kind of acting more ghostly? Like, uhm, today, when I saw Vlad; I had to hold back a growl. A real growl, in my throat."

"That's where growls come from." Tucker supplied unhelpfully. "What did Vlad do?"

"Told me I suck at being a hybrid."

"Bullshit."

"Yeah."

"When you decide to actually growl at him, let me know so I can get out my camera." Tucker rubbed his nose and watched Malcolm spread burgers on the grill with hunger in his eyes. "And maybe we can run some tests when we get home. Figure out your ectoplasm-to-blood ratio. It might've gone up?"

"Maybe."

"In the meantime." Tucker leaned back. "I'll do my best to keep you passing as human, remind you to stop glowing and putting ghost vibes out in the atmosphere. As ghost boy's best friend, that's kind of my job."

Danny flushed. "Thanks."

Malcolm walked between groups of boys, writing something down on a clipboard. He stopped and spoke with a couple of people, scribbled something, then moved on to the next group. When he got to them he looked at his clipboard for a long while, scribbled something out, then focused. "Hey. Either of you guys want cheese on your burgers?"

A flicker of a ghost fish caught Danny's attention. It plucked at Malcolm's sunglasses. "Yeah." Tucker answered for him. "We both do."

"Cool. Have you guys seen Troy?"

"I haven't." Tucker glanced at Danny and paled, shoving his elbow into his ribs. "And neither has Danny! You haven't, have you?"

Danny shook his head, the green lights dancing around his pupils faded. "Uh - nope."

"Damn." Malcolm, apparently still focused on the clipboard, scribbled something down and went on to the next group.

Tucker pulled his sunglasses from his shirt and handed them to Danny. "Dude, you're starting to worry me."

"What?"

"Your eyes went completely neon."

"They were?" Danny swallowed. "They didn't feel like they were."

"Just wear my sunglasses." Tucker coaxed. "We can go and find service to call Sam about it, alright?"

"What's she gonna do?" Danny put on the sunglasses.

"Yell at you, probably. Might work."

"Wow. Master of resources Tucker Foley."

They got to their feet, Tucker getting his phone out and checking for service. He was as disappointed about the lack of bars as he had been since they got here. "I think we'll have more luck getting to a direct line," Danny said, looking around. Malcolm was back to the fire, flipping burgers. It should be easy enough to slip away, since there wasn't any other type of adult supervision around, and it wasn't like they weren't experts at disappearing -

"Fenton!"

Dash had acquired seven followers throughout the day. He was now a force to be reckoned with, if he managed to stay on two feet and keep himself established. His credibility, however, seemed to hinge on the hot political debate of ghosts existing. Danny wasn't interested in getting caught up in this. "Fenton, you heard that one of the counselors is missing?"

Danny pushed his sunglasses up his nose; the need to growl crawling up his throat and he wasn't entirely sure if he had control over the brightness of his eyes. "I heard Malcolm ask around for him. Doesn't seem like a big deal." Behind them, the fire popped.

"You know what I'm thinking, Fenton?"

"No."

"Ghosts."

"No."

If it hadn't been for the beanpole, snickering in the background like he knew everything in the world, Danny doubted he would have got mad. Assholes he could deal with. Assholes refuting the existence of ghosts who insisted on dragging him into the middle of it he could not tolerate. Danny didn't growl, but he dropped a freezing presence into the air - the kind that sent chills up human spines, the kind that was meant to go with haunting suspense music and was followed by gruesome murders. The fierceness of his ghost half woke up in his veins, begging to morph, to show them power and make them shiver. His ghost half nearly activated, nearly swathed him in bright light and triggered his change. Danny fought the instinct to become a ghost in skin as well as sensation.

The boys grew quiet, looking around at each other, and huddled closer together. They felt watched, psychologically attacked, by something they couldn't see. And it was Danny doing it, Danny assaulting them. Tucker put a hand on his shoulder; Danny focused on it, counting his breaths, making himself feel the air that pulled in and out of his lungs. The sizzling ghostly power filling the air faded away, drained until the boys were left with nothing but a vague sense of unease.

"Ghosts...aren't real." The beanpole said, mostly to himself, looking around for shadows that might come to life. "Right?"

Tucker snorted. "Tourist."

"Shh!" Dash was looking at the trees, the deep shadows thick between them. They fell quiet, and the mood Danny had begun earlier crept back of its own volition. Nothing stirred in the night. No breeze, no chirping bats, no rustle of bugs in the sand. All they had was their apprehension that something was wrong.

Danny cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Food's done."

He gestured to Malcolm, who was beside the fire distributing hamburgers. Dash ran a hand through his hair and gave the beanpole a steady glare. "I wouldn't be too worried. It'll probably come to eat you before the sun rises."

"There's nothing out there!"

Dash smirked, like some kind of all-knowing guru, and stalked off. His new posse followed him, sans one. The beanpole rolled his eyes and stalked off to throw rocks at the lake. Tucker slipped an arm over Danny's shoulder. "Hey." He said softly. "Let me see?"

Danny raised the sunglasses. Tucker frowned, inspecting. "You're clear. Let's eat, I think it'll help."

"You're just hungry."

"Doesn't mean it won't help."

They fell into step with each other, getting in line beside a fold out-table full of plates and condiments. "You okay?" Tucker added, snagging two buns and drowning them in ketchup.

"I'm fine." Danny whispered, rubbing his neck. He suddenly wasn't hungry. Tucker made him get a plate, shooting him a look that said eat or I make you.

"You're fine, but you're not o-kay."

Danny put a limp tomato slice on his bun. "I'm fine." He waited in line, eyes drawn to the fire. It was warm, burning his skin, and though fire genuinely had no effect on keeping ghosts away, it definitely felt nicer to be around. Malcolm dropped a burger on his plate and Danny dropped beside the warm flame, sitting closer than most people dared, comforted by the warmth. His gaze drifted up to the sky, which was clearer than in the city. Tuck sat down beside him and for a minute Danny considered not bothering with Vlad or Dash and just enjoying the time he had here. "We should go stargazing tonight."

"If you keep me up until two am to see five stupid meteors again I swear I'll shove you in the thermos," Tucker threatened easily, "and I won't let you out for a week."

"They weren't stupid! And there was way more than five, you just... couldn't see them with all the light pollution."

"Yeah, well, my impaired eyesight has nothing on your glowy glows, so…"

"Glowy glows." He rolled his eyes. "Why aren't you a poet? Your descriptions. So original."

Tucker nudged him with his elbow, shoveling food into his mouth. He said something with a mouthful of hamburger that was unintelligible but got the point across that Danny should stop being an ass. Danny only shrugged, munching. For a moment, he felt the most relaxed since he had arrived. Maybe Tucker was right, and all he really needed was a good meal to feel properly human and grounded.

Danny was about to launch into a full explanation about the importance of stargazing in good light when Malcolm burst into laughter. "Oh my god!" He pointed. "Troy!"

The boys collectively looked around, Danny following the direction of Malcolm's finger to the counselor. Troy was still in his croptop and shorts, but was missing one of his shoes. Water dripped from his chin and fingertips; algae clung to his shoulders, and smeared dark green over his collarbone. He stood there, perfectly still. Danny paled. "Where have you been, man?" Malcolm chuckled and walked up to him. "You look like hell!"

Troy turned his head, slowly. He took a step that was awkward and stiff, like a marionette. Malcolm stopped, his smile fading. "Troy?"

Danny had time to calmly set down his hamburger.

Troy - or, realistically, whatever was possessing Troy - opened his mouth and let out a demonic screech, the likes of which sank down into the bones of the living, a paralyzing sound of terror and agony wrapped together. The possessed counselor moved, stalking Malcolm brainlessly.

Danny was on his feet. He didn't think. The ghost under his skin rose to strengthen him, his legs moved faster than they should have been able to; he leapt with the grace of a practiced warrior, tackling Troy to the sand and twigs before he could wrap his cold, wet fingers around Malcolm's neck. Troy hissed, rolling in the sand. Danny landed on his back, rocks digging into his shoulders. Troy was up, sand flying around him; he hissed, leaping on top of Danny.

His eyes were pitch black.

Danny grabbed at the freezing wrists whose fingers tightened on his throat, kicking and gasping. He tried to shove Troy off, but there was something heavy inside of him, something that couldn't be lifted with the force of a ghost. Danny squeezed his eyes shut, fighting to stay human, fighting the urge to sink through the ground and fade away. His ghost half jumped up to help, but staying human only made it so that he heard the screaming and moving and heartbeats of everyone around him, putting his senses in complete overload. Danny was certain that if he opened his eyes they'd be brighter than the sun; everyone would know, so he kept them closed - even when the pressure on his neck made him lose all of his air.

Stars popped. He tasted salt.

Then nothing.

Here it finally is. Get hyped.

.

Wait.

A favor?

Let me know what you think while this goes. I'm learning how to write a novel, how to publish a novel, and how to write my next one. Feedback helps.

-Carrie

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Up next:
Excerpt 1
Mystery Trio No. 1
A real actual paying job.