Chapter 2 *Moving On*

"Danny! Danny! Get up!" Jazz yelled impatiently from downstairs. Disoriented and dazed, he sat up slowly, trying to remember his surroundings and what was going on. But as his vision cleared and his senses focused, Danny groaned inwardly and rolled over, stuffing the pillow over his ears to block out the high-pitched squealing of his overbearing sister. Sleep began to envelope him once more as he tuned out Jazz's commands.
But before he could get a firm grasp on sleep, Jazz stomped into the room and yanked his covers off.

"Have you not heard me the last 10 minutes? We're going to be late!" she screeched, flailing her hands this way and that for emphasis. Danny pulled the pillow tighter around his head.
"Oh, I heard you. And the whole neighborhood did, too."
"Get up and get dressed, or I'll leave you to walk," Jazz threatened, placing her fists on her hips like she always did when she was frustrated.
"Fine! Fine. I'm getting up," Danny surrendered, climbing begrudgingly out of the warm, cozy bed and dragging Jazz out of the room. With her gone he got dressed and ready, not even bothering to comb through his sparrow-black hair, and came down reluctantly.
Jazz looked up from her book. "Ah-ha! It's about time you decided to wake up! Hurry up, or I'll be late for first period," Jazz bossed, tramping out loudly.
"Ugh. Another car ride with the infamous Jazz Fenton..." Danny mumbled, regretting his decision to come with her.
The ride there wasn't bad. Jazz appeared to be in a pretty dark mood, so Danny left her to sulk while he went through his plans for the day. Nothing was actually going on today, but it gave him a reason to avoid talking on the way there.
Jazz pulled into the school's parking lot with extra care, being the overprotective sister she was, and came to a stop at an excruciatingly slow speed. When the car finally jerked to a stop, Danny leapt out of the car without a goodbye and went on his way to class.
'Strange. He usually has at least one rude comment on my driving. Wonder what's got him in a bad mood,' Jazz wondered.
A random student passed by and accidentally knocked the mirror on her car sideways.
"Hey! Watch it, ya creep!" Jazz warned, shaking her fist as she leaned out the window.
Danny snuck a look over his shoulder as his sister nearly fell out of the car window. Rolling his eyes, he searched for Sam and Tucker, a faint smile pulling at his lips and his hands stuffed into his pockets.
Fortunately, he didn't have to search for long. Finding Tucker was easy, mostly because he was the center of attention at the moment, being stuffed inhumanly into a very uncomfortable-looking locker. Dash slammed the locker door shut with an evil grin, swiping his hands together as if brushing dirt off.
"There! One nerd down, five to go!" Dash announced in his nasally voice. His gaze sifted through the edgy crowd, targeting his next victim. His narrowed eyes landed on Danny.
"Great," he muttered, looking for an escape route. But of course, no exit within running distance. Danny slouched, awaiting the attack. Dash chuckled darkly and pushed through the crowd. When he finally came into the opening, Danny's patience was wearing thin.
But Dash's attitude was quite the opposite. He was taking his time, obviously in no hurry to pummel him. After about three agonizingly long minutes of cracking his knuckles threateningly, Danny snapped.
"Really, Dash, I want to get this over with sometime today! Or at least this week! But I know your pea-sized, jock brain can't process that too quickly, so go on. Take your time," Danny bursted. He crossed his arms casually and waited with bated breath as he realized his actions. Dash seemed astounded that someone had actually had the audacity to talk to him without his permission. And just as Dash raised his fist for the striking blow, another voice joined into their argument. But this voice was soothing.
"Dash!" Violet chided. "What do you think you're doing?"
Dash slid his steely gaze from Danny to Violet reluctantly.
"I'm about to beat this dork to a pulp, that's what!" Dash spat. Violet remained calm.
"But you don't want to do that," she stated tranquilly.
Dash's enraged grimace slowly shifted into a blank expression, like he was suddenly hypnotized.
"You're right. I-I don't." And he dropped his fist instantly. Turning sharply, he stumbled away, the dull look in his eyes disappearing only when he was around the hall corner.
Violet smiled victoriously. "There. Are you okay?"
It took Danny a few moments to acknowledge her, but eventually he broke from his surprise. "Uh, we-ll. Yeah, I guess..."
Relief was evident in her violaceous eyes. "Good. So, what're you waiting for? Let's get to class," she said, as if nothing had happened. Her plum-colored eyes glinted briefly of something unfamiliar, but he didn't give it a second thought. He simply nodded as they headed on their way to their first class, Violet chattering away.
All during first class Violet talked to him, never once caring that the teacher might catch them. Actually, in third period, they did get caught! But Violet guilelessly spoke to them in an even voice and the teacher just...agreed. She did this frequently throughout the day, but Danny barely noticed. He had a feeling it didn't matter and that he should just listen to her. He was suspicious at first, but the suspicion had died away slowly, and he forgot about it eventually. It was every time she said something, every time she spoke to him; the suspicion and distrust faded.
Before he knew it, the school day was over and Violet was walking beside him to Fenton Works. Sam and Tucker hadn't come because they were working on an assignment together that involved a mystery subject, but they had been unwilling to say any more on the matter.
"So, I was speaking with Sam the other day...," Violet began, watching Danny from the corner of her eye for his reaction. But he was completely uninterested; he was too deep in thought.
"Uh, huh. Really," he mumbled, staring fixedly at the sidewalk and concentrating. Abruptly, his ghost-sense went off for the eighth time that day, and he ignored it for the eighth time. Frowning in frustration, he looked up from the cement pavement to cast a subtle glance around, but saw nothing. Shaking his head, he resumed his previous thoughts with the same focus. He could faintly hear Violet's attempt at small talk, but it was irrelevant. He didn't honestly care in his current state.
Violet waited expectantly, but when he said nothing more, she chose to take that as an opportunity.
"And she said something quite interesting, something I think will interest you," she continued, her amaranthine eyes wide and probing. He simply nodded, his thoughts elsewhere. He could hear the irritation in her voice.
"And would you like to hear what it is?" she asked, impatience edging into her usually steady voice at his lack of attention. He "mhm'ed" and stared straight ahead, a slight frown on his face as he concluded his skepticism. Violet growled inaudibly.
Her eyes flared a glowing amethyst at being ignored, but she swiftly calmed her temper, double-checking that Danny hadn't seen. She cleared her throat and composed herself.
"She informed me-" But an echoing crash sliced through her words as swiftly as a sharpened knife. Despite her unpleasant mood, Violet was intrigued. Danny himself was caught off guard.
"Catch it, Jack! Catch it!" Maddie Fenton could be heard shouting frantically. Another earsplitting shatter resounded and then silence.
"I guess we better...see what happened?" Danny asked unenthusiastically, plain to see that he actually didn't want to know.
But Violet, still upset from his tergiversation and the interrupting ruckus, agreed with a pouty attitude, hoping he'd notice. Which he did, being awoken from his daydream. And now that she thought about it, she was curious to know what he was thinking.
"Before we go, what were you so intent on thinking about? You didn't answer directly to any of my questions," Violet investigated, laying on her hypnotic voice.
"Nothing important, really. Let's go," he said a little too eagerly. He didn't want to share his latest discovery. He wished Sam and Tucker were around. But because of his terrible skill in lying, she could tell he wasn't telling the truth.
"You can tell me, it's okay," she replied, disregarding his demand to drop the subject. She leaned forward on her tiptoes and tilted her head sincerely. He leaned back impulsively, his eyes displaying caution. She realized he was suspicious and took the matter into her own hands.
"Danny, why are you being so distant? I thought we were friends," Violet whispered in her silky voice, using her powers to the maximum. He appeared to be persuaded at first, but his mind cleared and he flickered back to his own freewill. Violet was taken aback. She always got the better of everyone! But no, this Danny Fenton could easily overcome her powers. She'd need to find the portal and soon. Time was ticking, and so was Danny's life, little did he know.
Without a word, they went into Fenton Works together and separated at the doorway. Danny seemed to have a theory about her, and she needed to gain his trust back. She'd work on that later, but for now, she had some quality time to spend with Jazz.
***
Now up in the safety of his room, Danny paced back and forth, murmuring incoherently under his breath. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it earlier, but it was obvious now. Violet was a ghost. And a good or bad one, he couldn't tell. But he was bent on figuring out that piece of missing information as soon as possible. He had realized this when he'd been walking with Violet a little earlier, when his ghost-sense had gone off once again. He'd just been oblivious enough to not notice that it went off whenever Violet came around.
He was pondering on ideas about how to determine Violet's motives when a soft knock came at the door. He glanced up, realizing he'd been unconsciously tapping his food repetitively.
"Come in," he welcomed, expecting his mom or dad to come in with some great, new invention. But instead it was Violet, looking urgent. Her wide eyes showed her nervousness.
"Violet, what're you-"
"Just meet me here tonight, please," she begged, slipping a folded note into his hands.
"But what-"
"I have to go before Jazz notices, but please, just meet me," she pleaded. In one swift movement, she was out and back downstairs. Danny sat precipitously on the edge of his bed, placing his head in his palm and putting his elbow on his knee. He unfolded the note carelessly, annoyed with Violet's vagueness with everything, and read it. It said to meet her on the outskirts of town at 9:00 p.m. promptly. He sighed exasperatedly and tossed the note disdainfully on his side table.
Whatever so called "crush" he'd had on her, was gone. Now all he could think was what she wanted and why she was here, in Amity Park. No immediate solution came to mind. And she didn't leave any hints either, so he was completely baffled and had nowhere to lead off from.
Finally, he decided to call Sam and Tucker to get their opinions. But both of their phones rang...and rang...and rang. Neither picked up. Without their input, there was a hindrance in his research on Violet now. To his great dissatisfaction, he had to wait. And if necessary, he would wait all the way to 9:00 p.m. With, or without Sam and Tucker's help.
***
Time passes unrealistically slow when you're waiting for something. Danny felt like this statement was absolutely true as he lay sprawled on his bed, counting the seconds one-by-one to pass the time. Literally.
But eventually he tired of doing that, at which any normal person would have also, and instead stood up and went to his computer. He tried video chatting, but neither Sam nor Tucker answered. His frustration then dwindled to a sneaking curiosity as he wondered what they were doing.
He checked his clock. 7:27 p.m. Ugh.
He decided to actually do something with his remaining time, so he grabbed his hazy blue jacket and headed downstairs.
"Oh, honey, can you help with this?" Maddie asked as she noticed her son trying to execute his escape plan. Darn it.
"Uh, um, well..." His hand hovered over the doorknob.
"Uh, um, well? Come on, I need an extra hand," Maddie insisted, overlooking Danny's hesitancy. He sighed and shuffled over, dragging his feet.
"Okay, now you take that end and I'll carry this end. That's right. Now hurry, down to the lab!" she instructed, lifting her end up with ease as Danny struggled to get it off the floor. He eventually got it, but not without denting it thoroughly. He would be surprised if the machine still worked by the time it was downstairs in the lab.
"One, two, three-watch out!" she yelled when Danny skipped a step by accident. "You're going to drop it!"
"Oh, thanks, don't worry about me, I'm fine," Danny said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. But that just got him another warning from his mother.
"Keep your eyes on the stairs!"
"I got it! How much farther?"
"Just over...here." And they sat it down. More like dropped it, but whatever.
"Thank you, your father isn't much help right now. Speaking of your father, have you seen him?" Maddie asked, already setting to work on the contraption they'd just brought down. She pressed miscellaneous buttons and pulled random levers, not even paying attention to what she was doing. Thankfully, she didn't press any self-destruct button. Yet.
"Nope, haven't seen him. Anyway, I was going to just go for a walk, so see you," Danny replied distractedly, not really hearing what she was saying. He dashed for the stairs before his mother could get him to stay longer.
Once he hit the top step, he ran to the door to avoid any more unwanted detours.
Just as he shut the door, he heard Jazz call, "Danny!" He pretended not to hear her.
Outside it was cold and probably only 60 degrees, not including the biting wind. The sun was setting quickly and the sky was an orange and pink mess, casting a faint glow on everything below. The withering plants were a dull yellow-tan and gave the scenery a dead vibe. But it still held a mysterious beauty that canceled out the lifelessness of it all. Danny shivered and began his undirected walk.
It didn't take long for his jacket to be absolutely useless. He was hugging his arms to his chest in less than 20 minutes and wishing he'd stayed home. The walk did help clear his mind, but wasn't very comfortable. Soon enough he was sitting on a park bench with his head in his arms, bored to death. The past three days had been stressful and they were catching up to him all at once. Now.
"Hey, Danny. What're you doing? Do feel alright?" Sam asked, sitting down next to him.
He looked up. "Oh, hey, Sam. Where were you?"
"Mother's on high alert again," she said with a disgusted grimace.
"What do you mean?" he said, using anything as a distraction from his own thoughts.
"Forcing me into dresses, telling me how my friends are such bad influences, locking me up in my bedroom, taking away all form of communication. The norm."
"Oh," Danny said without emotion. The bell began chiming for the stroke of 8 'o'clock, ringing off the buildings and echoing. Danny sighed in impatience, wanting to only get his encounter with Violet over with. Sam caught on to his distress.
"What's wrong?" She leaned forward, trying to catch his gaze as he looked away.
"Nothing," he mumbled unconvincingly. He leaned back against the freezing cold metal, resting his head on the top of the bench and closing his eyes.
"Nothing always means something, so tell me what that something is because it's obviously not nothing. Well? I'm waiting." She crossed her arms stubbornly and raised her eyebrows skeptically.
"I said everything's fine, now please, drop it," he muttered, turning his head away from Sam's prodding glare. He didn't want her to know about Violet's invite, because surely she would want to investigate it herself, and no doubt Tucker would manage to tag along. He had to do this himself.
"Fine. But you can tell me when you want to," Sam assured, not being intruding or rude for once. She kept her word and dropped the subject, but only to start up new conversation.
"Why're you out here anyway? It's like below the fifties! I'll admit, I'm freezing," she said, trying to cheer Danny up.
"I just...had to think. Without all the explosions and nagging back at my house. And let me tell you, sitting out in a snowstorm would be worth the alone time." He sat up straight and stuffed his hands deep into his coat pockets, savoring the remaining warmth they gave.
Completely changing the subject, Sam said, "Have your parents been able to figure out how to fix the Assault Vehicle? Or should I say, RV? My parents gave the check for the money already."
"Yeah, it'll be finished by the end of the week. Actually, do you know why they decided to donate the money? I've been curious..."
"No, but I'll find out." Sam stared down at her shoes as she spaced off, imagining ways to get her parents to confess.
Danny nodded knowingly. Sam's parents didn't especially like him, so it was a wonder as to why they'd willingly hand money to his parents to fix a weaponized ghost vehicle.
Breaking thought from her schemes, Sam looked back to Danny. "So how did you destroy the vehicle? It wasn't cheap."
He shrugged dismissively. "Well, I was hunting down Technus with the Assault Vehicle when I realized it wasn't the smartest thing to do. Technus overshadowed it and...well...drove it off the dock into the water. Long story short." He smiled ruefully.
But Sam laughed, to his great surprise. She didn't seem mad at all.
"You're not mad at my stupidity?" he asked with evident astonishment.
"Do you want me to be? Geez, I'm not always a buzzkill."
"Not always," Danny agreed. "But often."
Sam gave him a fake annoyed frown and nudged him with her elbow playfully.
"You'd think after one time of driving it off the dock would be enough, but no, not for Danny Fenton. And again, you'd think letting the vehicle be overshadowed by Technus once would also be enough, but no, not for Danny Fenton. You truly are a mystery." Sam laughed again. But she then stood up, sticking her own hands in her pockets.
"I better go, my hour-of-freedom is about up and my parents will be expecting me. See you around," Sam farewelled, tightening her midnight jacket around herself, trying in vain to achieve warmth.
"See you," Danny said, disappointed to be alone again. Sam noticed his decrease in liveliness and hesitated to leave, but opposed against it and left.
He sighed and glanced at the bell tower. It read 8:34. There was still 36 more minutes. Yay.
He stood up when the footsteps of Sam's combat boots faded away, leaving only the sound of the empty howling of the wind. He began walking in the opposite direction.
The stinging cold scratched across his skin, making him numb. He shivered involuntarily and shut his eyes from the wind. The leaves scuttled dryly across the cracked pavement, their crumbling colors flitting briefly in and out of his narrowed vision. Twilight tinted the orangish clouds, and the sun had only minutes left of warming the world below it before it set completely. Still shivering, he leisurely walked to the meeting destination.
***
Taking a deep breath she placed her frozen hand on the even colder metal knob, turned it slowly, expecting a deafening creak to follow, and peeked her head around the doorframe. The lights were out and the house was still, not a sound to be heard. Still cautious, she tentatively inched her foot forward, nudging the door ever farther. No sound. No movement. Nothing.
She allowed her other foot to slip silently inside and fall in place beside her other foot. Now fully on the opposite side of the threshold, she leaned up against the door, pushing it shut with a soft thud. Still no sound.
One step. Two step. Three. Each step made her feel more and more like a crook, sneaking into the bank, on the verge of getting away with the crime. And she would have gotten away with it too...if it weren't for her meddling parents.
The lights flickered on, momentarily blinding her. She stuck her hand up in front of her eyes, blocking out the bright light that flooded through the kitchen.
"And what do you think you're doing, young lady?" Mrs. Manson's dignified voice asked. When the white spots faded from her vision, Sam let her hand drop to her side limply. Pamela Manson had her white gloved hands on her hips, disapproval etched on her perfect features. Jeremy Manson, who had his arms crossed formally across his plaid-vest chest, didn't look too proud either.
"Oh-ho. Hi mom, hi dad," Sam greeted in a voice two octaves higher than her regular tone. She held her hand up in a nervous wave, but gave up on trying to be innocent when her parents' glares became laser-like.
"Do you mind telling us what you were doing out this time at night?" Mrs. Manson asked again, Mr. Manson seeming to have no say in the matter.
"I was just walking around town-"
"For three hours!"
"Mom, it was only half an hour-"
"And why were you out so long?"

"Please stop interr-"
"Hm?"
"I was just walking and ran into Danny, then I came home! Sheesh! Why're you-"
"That's what I thought. That delinquent, that troublemaker, that-"
"Bad influence?" Sam finished for her, being the interrupter for once. Now it was her turn to cross her arms, not in a snobby way, but in a defiant way.
"Yes! He," she sneered the word "he", "is teaching you wrong ways and I am going to put a stop to it at once!"
"What, are you going to put another restraint order on him?" Sam said sarcastically.
Pamela spluttered, not able to calm herself. She threw her hands up. "Maybe! I'll-we'll..."
"I'm going upstairs, don't worry. I'll put my self to bed," Sam announced, making her way to the stairs.
But her mother wasn't finished. "We'll...we'll move! That's right! Start packing tomorrow morning!" She had a crazy, unstable look in her eyes. She twitched.
Jeremy was perturbed by this specific statement. He unfolded his arms and turned to Pamela with a shocked expression. "What?"
Mrs. Manson nodded her head eagerly, already warming to the idea. "Yes. Yes. We're moving. By...by...by Thursday! Mmhm. Yes." She had completely lost it. She was jittery and fidgeted uneasily.
Sam flinched back, disturbed by her mother's sudden breakdown. "Uh, are you sure? You mean just around the block or something, right?"
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no! Dear me, no! We're moving OUT of Amity Park. Out of this town and away from the Fentons! It'll be a new life for you and we can start new and-and..."
"You're joking. What about the trip? I can still go, right?" Sam asked, tension forming a knot in her stomach. She needed to talk to Danny. And now.
"Nope!" her mother chirruped merrily, smiling chaotically. "You'll be staying home for that! Just spending time with your loving family." Jeremy Manson realized he'd better take action before his wife's disordered state took an even worse turn.
"Uh-huh, sweetie, why don't we get you to bed? You look a little deprived..."
Her head snapped in his direction as he was about to put his hand comfortingly on her shoulder. He cringed back. He looked afraid that she would do something irrational.
"Deprived of what? Some quality family time with a normal, un-goth, sociable, optimistic daughter and a supporting, un-suggestive husband? Ha! I've been living long enough to know that we need a change! And a big one at that! So if going to the extremes and packing up and leaving our only home to go out of the country-"
"Wait, country?"
"And settling into an entirely different and unfamiliar city gets me the family I want, then so be it!" Mrs. Manson spun sharply and stomped back to her room, her pearl white heels clicking all the way.
"Dad?" Sam said, looking for someone reasonable. He simply looked back at her blankly, void of any thought.
"I better go calm her down," he said after a few quiet seconds. He left abruptly and practically ran after Pamela.
Then Sam's grandma rolled in on her scooter. "What's all the ruckus? I'm trying to sleep if you haven't noticed."
"Sorry, Gram. Just go back to bed," Sam murmured, not wanting to upset her with the news of moving. But it was as if she read Sam's mind.
"Did I hear something about "moving"? Because if my hearing aid isn't acting up on me and I heard correctly, well, that's a shame. Because we are NOT MOVING!" she shouted, probably intending for Pamela to hear. When no answer came, she wheeled around and went back to her bedroom, grumbling under her breath about "prissy rich people" and "ignorant sons".
Sighing heavily, Sam ambled up the stairs, taking her time so she wouldn't have to go to bed and think about what had just happened. And now without any cellphone, computer, or any other device used for contacting, she was utterly helpless to tell Danny or Tucker. She'd have to wait until she got the rare chance to make a break for it.
"Ouch!" she yelped as she ran into her door. She hadn't realized she was already up the stairs. Rubbing her forehead gingerly, Sam opened the door with vehemence and hurried in, slamming the door behind her. She yanked off her jacket that was of no use outside anymore and tossed it carelessly onto her bed, just before she plopped down herself on the warm, fuzzy covers. Kicking off her black combat boots, she crawled under the covers hastily, glad for the warmth. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. But she waited and waited. Then she sighed.
No use. She couldn't get to sleep with all the new thoughts running through her mind. What with the plans of moving, the trip, no communication, and Violet, Sam would be lucky to even imagine sleep at the rate she was going.
So she laid there and let the thoughts race through her mind, beginning to think little of them as drowsiness covered her like a blanket. No sooner than 9:00 p.m., as it struck exactly on her bedside clock, was she asleep and dreaming. But those dreams instantaneously shifted to nightmares.

"Oh, I'm so glad you made it! I was afraid you were avoiding me," Violet cooed, relief taking over her voice. Danny Phantom landed without a sound, not answering.
"Why did you ask me to come here?" he asked instead, his arms crossed and his face placid.
Violet's cheery demeanor dissolved quickly when she realized he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. Her soft gaze turned stone.
"I suppose you want straight answers," she said, something like annoyance hidden deep within her words.
"If you wouldn't mind, yes," Danny replied tersely, same level of ice. She nodded her head curtly, her dark purple eyes vaguely glowing in the fresh dusk.
"Hm. I always did wonder about how the Ghost Boy would look in person, and now he's here, right in front of me. I really didn't expect this," Violet said conversationally, avoiding the question at hand. "And I wasn't faking it when I said you were cute."
"You never said that."
"Oh, I didn't? Well, now I just did." She shrugged her shoulders, as if nothing was at consequence. "Do tell me, how're you half ghost, half boy?"
"I would love to," he said sarcastically. "But I'm afraid I have to ask you to stop stalling."
Violet sighed in exasperation, irritated that he wouldn't fall for her attempt at distractions. Her glare snapped back to his vivid green eyes, all traces of antagonism gone.
"You're right," she said surprisingly. "I should stop stalling. And I will. Let's get to the point as to why I have called you here." As she spoke in a low voice, she stepped closer and closer, her stare never breaking, never wavering. Her beautiful violet eyes didn't seem so beautiful anymore, they were threatening and controlling, he couldn't seem to look away as she closed the distance between them. She was now only hand length's away, practically no space between them. He was frozen to the spot, unable to move. The feeling was so familiar, the feeling of helplessness, like he couldn't do a thing to stop whatever happened next. But before he could will himself to speak, Violet beat him to it.
"I've called you here for one reason, and one reason only. But I suppose I'd better show you than tell you," she muttered. He would have thought she was talking to herself if not for the fact she was eyeing him with a new intensity. She took a step back abruptly, but only one. A sudden purple flash forced Danny to shut his eyes tightly, but it only lasted for a moment. In the place of Violet now stood a dark, inky ghost, more like a shadow, with no actual features besides the wicked grin and glinting lavender eyes. The outline of the ghost was jagged and spiky, giving the effect that if you touched the ghost it would be sharp. The only defining features were the violet eyes and perfect figure that were obviously Violet's.
It looked familiar...
"And now, the reason for you're being here -well- like I said, why don't I just SHOW you?" And she lifted off the ground. With one last witchy smirk, she sped toward him, which wasn't far. Before he could react, he felt her plow into him, a sharp pain in his head, and everything was black.