Danny Phantom

Crisis: Backlash

Author's Notes: Hey guys, I know it's been awhile since I uploaded anything, but I thought that since this story seemed to have some loose ends, I'm going to write it again, this time with improved grammar! I know that as it is now, it only stands as a half-decent bedtime story, so as we go, new events will take place, my spelling and grammar will improve, and more action is on the way. By the end of this round, something epic will have taken place. Since this story was originally written before certain episodes and movies were aired, it's not really considered "canon" in the sense that it doesn't fit into the Danny Phantom series storyline. Several events taking place after "Reality Trip" are most likely to be left out or drastically altered so that they make sense in this occurring storyline. But, I won't waste any more time with explanations. You'll experience the rest for yourselves. Now, as promised, the first installment of the rehash of my first epic, "Crisis". This is "Crisis: Backlash"

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom © and related characters, merchandise, etc., are not owned by me in any way, shape, or form. However, the characters, ideas, and places that were created by me are my property. If you need or want to use any of them, just leave me a message. Thanks!

Chapter one

The End of the Beginning

My name is Sam Manson. My whole life, I had never imagined that I would be so lucky to see the things I've seen. I've witnessed my best friend ascend to something beyond incredible, I've seen the near-end of the world, I have faced the end and lived to tell about it. I know most people would kill to do the things I've done, seen the things I've seen. Some might say I'm lucky. Blessed, even, that I've lived as long as I have walking the fine line between life and death.

Because that's what my best friend is. Essentially, Danny has become just that: the fine line between life and death. He's something in between, not really dead and then, not quite living, either. He's become so powerful, so much stronger than he used to be. I know it was in him all along, but it fills me with a sense of pride when I watch him fight, because I like to think sometimes, he's fighting for me.

Our story is a legendary one, but my story is somewhat less glamorous. This story, in particular, is not as nice as I'd like. This story does not have the completely happy ending that we usually have. This is the story of the end of my life.

This is the story of how I died.

It had been roughly seven days since he'd seen a hint of blue sky. Instead, the entire city of Amity Park had been treated to nothing but angry black skies and fat drops of rain that fell in a perpetual downpour. As Danny stood silently, staring through the misty panes of his bedroom window into the never-ending gloom of the storm, he allowed his own thoughts to chase one another around his brain. Outside wasn't the only place the weather wasn't copacetic. Of course, having nearly a week straight of rain at the end of their summer break wasn't the greatest way to end the less-than-perfect holiday, but it wasn't the only contributory circumstance that had rendered the dour mood that the teen hybrid constantly found himself in.

Compared to the turbulence in his mind, the raging storm that covered Amity Park was a drizzle. But of course, having killed someone for the first time, two people in fact, one after the other, made Danny more than uneasy. He was feeling twenty shades of guilty and it was starting to show.

Amity Park had been buzzing about what had happened in Maeville. Though most of the details were exaggerating to an extreme degree, it seemed that most of the citizens of Danny's hometown had gotten the general gist of what had transpired, from the disease the media was labeling Hysteria to the deaths of the perpetrators at the hands of a frightened ghost boy. It wasn't really like he'd wanted to kill them. Hell, if he could have avoided it, he would have. But every time he went over the situation in his mind, he found no other alternatives to their deaths besides his own.

Perhaps it was the feelings that he may have been given a God-complex, deciding who lives and who dies, and who is allowed to stay and who must leave the land of the quick, that had made Danny so guilt-ridden lately. Or perhaps it was the fact that for the third consecutive time, he'd let a psycho get the better of him. The first time had been during the ordeal with his alter ego, the wicked Dan Phantom. The second at the hands of Miriana, the crazed genetically twisted doctor behind the Hysteria disease. The third had come at the hands of Jaston, Miriana's boss and companion, who had read Danny so well the ghost boy had felt that he was picking through his brain. He'd never been so exposed in his life, and that made him more than uncomfortable.

From downstairs he could hear the sounds of the TV drifting through the house, something he could vaguely understand as a news program. He strode the length of his room and cracked the door open, listening through the small gap. "In other news, more information about the Maeville Incident has surfaced in the form of a video tape, sent to our station from an anonymous informant. Here we have exclusive footage of the battle between our own Phantom and the Maeville Murderer. More on this at eleven. We now go to Jim with the weather. Jim?"

He closed his door again, now no longer caring about what was coming from the TV.

Danny nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a jolting vibration against his leg. He quickly snatched the phone from his pocket and flipped it open.

"Hello?" he answered, he slight annoyance and obvious adrenaline rush thick in his voice.

"Hey, you okay man?" came a male voice from the other end, a voice he knew instantly to belong to one of his best friends.

"Yeah, sorry Tuck. What's up?" Danny murmured, suddenly ashamed of himself for having snapped. He couldn't even remember what he'd been thinking about before the phone rang, which he knew didn't bode well for the coming school year.

"We on for tomorrow at Nasty Burger?" came a feminine voice, one that made Danny smile. Tucker had apparently decided a three-way conversation was easier than pretending to be a messenger. Danny didn't begrudge his friend for the surprise. On the contrary, he found he welcomed the sound of their combined voices. It helped to soothe the self-loathing thoughts that burned him so.

"Yeah, I need to get out of this house," he replied, a hint of bitterness laced in his voice.

"Well, when it rains this much, who wants to go outside?" Tucker supplied, the clicking of his PDA broadcasting clearly over his end of the phone.

"I do," Sam replied, earning her a laugh from both of her friends. Danny had needed the slight boost in morale his friends provided. It certainly improved his demeanor, and made living through the dull monotony of indoors living a little more bearable.

Danny stood in the shade of the tree, sweating what he was sure to be buckets beside Tucker as they suffered through the miserable heat that ensued the rains. It was completely beyond both seventeen year old boys how it could go from pouring to scorching in a matter of hours. Danny could have sworn that it had to be some sort of weather ghost, and even went so far as to check the Ghost Portal every few hours that day. It was closed, and remained as such.

Just when Danny and Tucker thought they were about to pass out from the stifling heat, Sam finally arrived, sporting a long black skirt and a black umbrella to hide her fair skin from the merciless rays of the sun. Danny sighed with relief, and the trio made their way to air-conditioned bliss of Nasty Burger, where they promptly ordered the coldest drinks they could and crowded into their usual booth at the back of the restaurant.

They exchanged jokes and stories as the hours drifted slowly by, the three of them recalling memories of their shared adventures and the hilarious oddities that they always found tangled into their missions. One, in particular, was putting them each into a fit of rolling laughter that only ceased when the three realized that they were no longer alone. Danny was the first to notice the stare of three pairs of eyes, one in particular that struck him as fondly familiar. The gaze of Valerie Gray caught his attention at last and he coughed to clear his throat slightly.

"Hey Val," he said, glancing at Sam and Tucker. Sam's face, though no less filled with mirth as her male companions, had ever so slightly stiffened in her chair.

"Hey guys," she replied brightly, then took a single step to the right to clear their view of her two companions. The one closest to her, a tall, broad-shouldered man with chestnut hair and matching eyes, offered a slight nod to the group as they took notice of him. "Guys, this is Jace and Katana," Valerie supplied, gesturing first to the male beside her, and then to the girl that Danny hadn't noticed yet. His first reaction was one of slight discomfort as he eyed her. Her skin was a milky white, almost to the point of death, he thought to himself. Her hair was a shade of raven that rivaled his own, and her soulless black eyes lingered on him for a heartbeat before moving on to rest on Sam and Tucker in turn. He felt Sam shiver slightly beside him.

"They're here on exchange from... England?" Valerie went on, glancing at the man known as Jace for confirmation. He nodded.

"From Ipswitch, actually," he said, shrugging slightly. His words slid smoothly off his tongue with his very distinctly English accent, which made Danny's left eye twinge slightly in suspicion. Had he heard that voice before?

"Care to join us?" Tucker asked, breaking the sudden, awkward silence that had ensued.

"We'd love to but I'm showing them around town today. You know, taking advantage of the weather and all. See you guys later," she said and turned, leading the way back towards the door and out into the blistering heat.

Danny turned to face his friends with a pensive expression furrowing his features.

"What?" Sam asked, eying him.

"Dunno, I just feel like I've heard that voice before," he said quietly, glancing left and right as he spoke. Sam's only reply was the rolling of her eyes and she immediately turned her attention back to her vegan shake, determined not to give the matter of Danny's suspicions another thought for the rest of the day. Tucker merely shrugged.

The second day of heat was no better than the first, and had, if in fact possible, been worse than its predecessor. This time, they opted to save what was left of their summer allowances and spend the day in the Fenton home, where they lay on Danny's floor, fans on and air conditioner running, praying for the rain to come back. At least they weren't melting when it was raining. Danny took advantage of the silence between them all, produced by the lack of desire to exert any more energy than necessary, to let his mind wander again.

His resentments and fears came bubbling to the surface of his thoughts again. Their sophomore year of high school had not been the best, in Danny's professional opinion. In fact, he hated it more than he'd hated his freshman year, if that was at all possible. For the first time in his entire ghost-hunting career, he'd had to do the one thing he'd sworn he'd never do: kill another being.

It wasn't entirely his fault, in truth. Part of him knew it was similar to a survival instinct, and had kicked in to protect his life. That was one thing, but the raw power that had come out... where had it come from? He'd never been able to produce such large amounts of raw power before, even in the most dire of circumstances. Well... that wasn't entirely true either. It had first revealed itself against his wicked counterpart, when he'd forced himself to use the Ghostly wail against Dan Phantom without training or even so much as a rational thought. It had just happened, like it had always been that way.

But that time no one had ended up dead.

You can't save them all. Had Jaston been right? Was it really true that no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't save everyone? Danny mentally kicked himself. He wanted to kick himself physically for listening to the advice of a serial killer, even if it had been temporary.

And the worst of it was, no one, not even his best friends, really knew for sure what had happened to him. He had snapped, and he knew it. All they knew is that something, somewhere near him, exploded, and that Danny had been fortunate enough to survive the explosion. What they didn't know is that the explosion had been Danny.

"Nnngghh... hullo?" he answered groggily, knocking the phone cradle to the floor as he fumbled for the receiver. His eyes fell on the clock next to his bed, which read 2:45 am. Who in their right mind called a teenager at almost three in the morning?

He had been sleeping peacefully, dreaming of things he would never dare mention to Sam (nor anyone else, for that matter) when suddenly, the sharp ringing of a phone had seemingly issued from her mouth and the moment had dissolved into a mass of darkness and annoyed confusion. Danny waited for a response from the other side of the line, but at first, there was nothing.

"Hello?" he said again, this time somewhat clearer than his previous greeting.

"If you wish yet to survive, beware, young hybrid of the ides, the fifth month on the center day the last hours of the world will come our way."

Danny blinked. "Who the hell are you?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Beware the ides," the other voice said, vaguely familiar and yet somehow foreign. Danny wasn't nearly awake enough to process it properly. The line went dead a breath later and he swore fervently, throwing the receiver to the ground to join the cradle it matched. He'd been woken up for someone to recite poetic nonsense at him? What sort of a waste of good sleeping time was that?

His irritation persisted throughout the day, marked as the third day of the heat wave that literally clung to Amity Park. It was clearly obvious to Sam and Tucker the moment they saw him that Danny at least slightly peeved.

"What happened to you?" Tucker asked at last, his reply a grumble from a disgruntled Danny.

"Some asshole woke me up at three in the morning last night."

"And?" Sam asked incredulously. Danny nearly asked her why she acted like this was a common occurrence, but thought better of the question and instead settled to explain what had happened.

"He gave me some random nonsense and then said 'beware the ides of the fifth month!' and then hung up on me." He shrugged, still irritated, and folded his arms. "And he sounded like... that Jace guy..." he said slowly, the thought dawning on him suddenly that the foreign tone of the mysterious caller's voice hadn't been in the familiarity, but the accent itself. "It sounded just like him," he said and blinked.

Sam merely rolled her lavender eyes towards the sky. "Figures..." she muttered under her breath.

"And what does that mean?" Danny snapped, his attention suddenly turned on her.

"It means that every time I think some guy is even slightly attractive, you find reasons to hate him!" she shot back. At this, he was taken aback, staring at her with a mixture of anger and surprise.

"You did that with Gregor-"

"Who was a fake!"

"-and with Michael-"

"Who was working for Jaston AND sold us out!"

"-and now with Jace!"

"Yeah, because he called me in the middle of the night and started reciting poetry at me!"

Through their exchange, Tucker remained silent, watching as the quarrel unfolded. The tension was palpable, and so he took the opportunity to excuse himself to the kitchen, where the smell of food and Maddie's cooking was waiting for someone to welcome them in.

Sam threw her hands up in frustration. "See? You'll find any excuse to knock some guy that takes the attention away from you!"

"What the hell are you talking about? We talked to the guy for maybe thirty seconds!"

"Yeah, but he's got Val's attention!"

"Val?" Danny repeated, again surprised. "What does this have to do with Valerie?"

She let out a frustrated groan. "Honestly Danny, you're so thick sometimes!" she said and stormed from the room. Danny stood there, bewildered, now suddenly unsure of what had just happened.

T3KN0G33K says: Hey Sam, you okay?

GothgirlManson says: I'm fine, Tuck

T3KN0G33K says: You sure? You and Danny had a pretty ugly fight today

GothgirlManson says: Really, I'm fine

GothgirlManson says: Hey, you know with what happened in maeville... do you know what happened to Danny? He hasnt been the same since

T3KN0G33K says: No idea. Why?

GothgirlManson says: Well... he changed. Just tryin to figure out if it was for the better

[GothgirlManson has logged out]

"Welcome to your Junior year of high school, students!" the man at the front of the room said brightly. "I will be your English teacher this year, and I hope that my knowledge will help you in the years ahead. My name," he turned and with an expo marker and wrote his name on the board, "is Vlad Masters. You are to call me Mr. Masters. I will also be your home room teacher. Bring all questions, comments, or concerns to me." He turned to face the class once more, now positively beaming.

Danny slammed his head on his desk. This was going to be the worst school year ever. Not only did he have to contend with ghosts, his conscience, whatever instability was going on inside him, and Dash, but now Vlad? This was begging for Danny to lose his already-tormented mind. Vlad's eyes lingered on Danny for a moment, in which the pair locked eyes and exchanged equally heated looks of utmost loathing. If Danny hadn't been consciously monitoring his ghost energies, he knew his eyes would have flashed to green.

The situation with his classes were only a slight improvement to having Vlad as an English teacher. Sam and Tucker were in all of his classes, but that didn't stop the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he saw who else accompanied them in class each and every day. Dash and three other football players were in his first period English class, along with the suspicious English boy Jace and his unsettling sister, Valerie, and Paulina.

Next was biology with Gary, the captain of the chess club, the entire A.V. club, and a cluster of giggling cheerleaders. Not only that, but he was seated across the room from his two friends, right next to Professor Stark's desk. He supposed it wasn't all bad. At least he didn't have to contend with the football team attempting to toss beakers of corrosive liquids at him or leaving bits of flammable materials next to his Bunsen burner, but the conversation was infinitely less exciting.

Third hour was Geometry with Valerie, which he didn't mind. He did, however, mind having to deal with the better part of the football and basketball teams, three golfers, and the stamp club. Danny did praise the powers that be for the lack of toxic chemicals that they could be tossing over his head or combustibles to use for "practical jokes" when class became too dull for them. It was around then that Danny had learned that whoever had coined the term "practical joke" should have been strung up and whipped for such an inappropriate and misleading term for such an embarrassing trick.

Fourth and fifth hours, study hall and History, were miraculously free of unwanted classmates.

Sixth and Seventh, however, made up for that fact and then some. Dash, Gary, the entire drama club, Jace, Katana, and the entire cheerleading squad plagued him during both Gym class and Journalism. He still wasn't sure how Sam had talked him into taking Journalism in the first place, but he found that another hour of listening Mr. Lancer's lectures was a decent alternative to what he might have taken (the only other classes left available being drama and religious studies, neither of which he fancied in the least).

Danny didn't think it could have been any worse if he'd started dancing on rusty nails instead. At least he could phase through those.

As he had predicted, school was a living hell. He was tormented worse than the previous two years, and barely had the energy to restrain himself from tackling Dash and hitting him in the face repeatedly with a blunt object... or his fist, which worked equally as well. He sat every day directly in front of Dash and Kwan, seething and narrowly avoiding flying debris and the occasional punch to the back of the head. If he was this close to breaking after only two weeks, he didn't want to know how bad it was going to be by the time two months rolled around.

His situation with Sam didn't make matters any better. After their fight, nothing had really gotten any better. It was hard to resolve a conflict when neither of the involved parties wanted to speak to one another. It wasn't to say that Danny didn't want to talk to Sam, but he really was too ashamed that their relationship had reached a point where he was snapping at her for things that now, he wasn't even sure mattered. She was distant now, too, as though he had poked her with a hot metal stick and she was quite unwilling to be burned yet again. He didn't really blame her, and yet he couldn't help but be angry at her. Did she really think that he was so selfish that he hated all of her boyfriends?

It was about then that Danny realized that he was still in class, and that everyone in the room was staring at him. He glanced down quickly to make sure that he was still wearing pants, and then looked around to see exactly why they were staring at him.

"Do you plan to answer the question, Daniel?" Vlad inquired flatly, staring at him with a mixture of smug condescension and annoyance plastered on his face. Danny blinked, realizing that he'd been drifting off in English, which he quite honestly didn't remember attending, and at last he shrugged.

"Umm... B?" he said, and the class erupted in laughter. Vlad shook his head.

Danny might have returned to his silent brooding, but he could see his own breath. His eyes went round for a second as he looked up at Vlad, who had turned again to face the board. Two small streams of red steam issued almost unnoticed from his nostrils, and he glanced back at Danny for a fraction of a second. The ghost boy only shrugged, seemingly just as confused as the older hybrid.

Dash was still snickering behind him, and was making it very difficult for Danny to concentrate when he had such an infuriating laugh. He had almost begun to turn when the snickering stopped abruptly, replaced by ragged breathing and the sound of strained gurgling.

Danny whirled around in his chair, and watched in frozen horror as Dash's constricted body suddenly began to convulse violently. To onlookers, it was almost as though someone where shaking him savagely by the throat. Danny might have been reminded of a cartoon he'd watched as a kid if the circumstances weren't so dire. His body found feeling again and he lurched up from his chair, placing his hands on Dash's shoulders in an attempt to steady him.

"C'mon Dash, snap out of it!" he shouted, trying to hold the larger teen still. Without obviously using his ghost powers, this proved to be a difficult feat.

At last his body froze again, Dash's eyes locked on Danny's with a mix of pain and pleading glazing the reddening orbs. Danny's brow furrowed with helplessness as finally Dash slumped forward in his desk, his head colliding violently with the wood surface. He was still once more.

Something red oozed from him, spreading smoothly across the desk and leaking slowly to the floor. Danny took a step back, hands shaking, looking around at the other students to make sure he hadn't just been seeing things, that he hadn't snapped. Their looks of frozen horror couldn't be torn away from Dash.

He was dead.

You can't save them all...