Writer- After PP
The room is as cold as ice, as always. The heating is always fighting his core, and his core always wins. We're used to it now.
Danny sits infront of his computer, with a folder I've never seen. Lists of ghosts, familiar and not familiar scroll down the screen. I look, and I notice he's asleep, so I pick up his sleeping frame, lightless, and place him on the soft mattress. I see his ribs sticking through his top, from the lack of eating the food made to kill ghosts, with a hard 6-pack from all the fighting that a jock would be proud of. Resolving to make all his favourite foods to fatten him up a bit, I tucked him in, under the NASA duvet cover. His skin vanished, and the blanket fell through. I touched his skin, and it was ice cold. I pulled the blanket back over his body again and he fazed it off again.
Than he floated up. It was a few centimetres, than meters. He leaned against his arms, now visible.
There was a knock an the white, wooden door. I ignored it.
"He does this every night," said the red-haired knocker, "he won't sleep on the ground. It's just a habit he can't get rid off, so don't bring it up." She left.
He always did it? What else had I missed?
i lean over., a a couple of hairs were a snowy white in he otherwise jet locks. Another sign I'd missed. His skin held a small glow, his figure covered with jaggid scars.
I turned around to a photo collage. In all the resent pictures of Danny, his icey eyes had green tints, tiny, but still there. A scream came from the bed that held my son. His hair was completely white, and he was dressed in a black and white HAZMAT suit. He was wiggling, kicking and screaming. In his gloved palm, a small ectoball formed, as acid as his closed eyes. I reached under his soft hair, putting pressure on a point on his neck, and his form relaxed, limbs spread out. A pressure point me and Jack had known about for embraces but always used wrong. To make them limp to fasten them to the dissection table. It was good to see it be used for something good.
He was so still I placed my hand over his heart, and after the longest second it beat once, weak, not enough to support a normal human. But Danny as never really normal. Not really.