4/16/09

AN~ Second chapter! I was so shocked by the response to this story, I really didn't think I would even get 3 reviews, if any so I'm really happy. I told myself if I got at least 10 reviews I would post the next chapter and last I checked I have 12! I'm writing this between classes I figure what's the best way to get into a teacher's mind than being in a school full of teachers? Well here's chapter 2 I hope ya'll like it.

Disclaimer- No I do not own Danny Phantom/Fenton or Lancer or any other characters in the show.

Edited 1/14/10 by my Beta Anisney-Robin Thank You!

Chapter 2

Decisions

Lancer was stunned. The ghost boy, the infamous Danny Phantom, was begging him for help. There, in his destroyed classroom was the one being that seemed indestructible, begging a simple school teacher to help him. Lancer was beyond stunned.

Should he help the boy? What were the consequences if he did? What were the consequences if he didn't?

If he did help the boy, then perhaps he could find out more about him and uncover what his real purpose was. If he truly was what he claimed, and what many people believed him to be: a hero. Maybe he could find out why the ghost boy seemed so different from the other ghosts. Well, perhaps he could figure it all out if the ghost survived. Survived? Lancer wasn't sure if that was considered a correct term when concerning the dead, but his mind was far too scattered to think of a better word for it.

If he didn't help the boy, then what would happen? If he truly were a hero protecting Amity Park, and were not to survive, would the city be in danger? Then again, maybe the city would be better off without him, and the town would go back to being the "nice place to live" it once was and claimed to be.

Coincidentally, the first day Danny Phantom appeared in the city was also the first day the ghosts started attacking. Who was to say that he wasn't the reason behind them, and that the ghosts weren't all a part of a stunt to get the ghost boy to look like the 'hero'?

Lancer wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do, but suddenly he was moving thoughtlessly. It felt as though he was watching himself from outside of his body, having no control of his actions and waiting anxiously to see what he would do next. Maybe I'm in shock.

Lancer's body hurried over to his desk, grabbing his keys, he ran out the door. Was he running away? He wasn't sure but the next thing he knew he was running down the hall, as fast as the overweight man in his 40's could. He ran through the main entrance of the school and headed straight to the parking lot, where his car stood alone.

As he got in the car his body suddenly stopped moving on its own. The keys were sitting in the ignition, ready to start the engine. His mind and body were once again working together as one. He wasn't sure what he was doing, nor what he was planning to do, but he did know that back in his classroom, there was a boy who desperately needed his help. He turned the keys and floored it, going straight through the parking lot. For once he didn't care that he wasn't following the directional arrows, even though he normally wasn't one to break the rules, minor or not. He drove to the exit nearest his classroom and hopped out the car without bothering to turn off the engine.

He ran to the double doors, only to find that they were locked. He all but hit himself in the head in realization as he ran back to his car to retrieve the keys from the ignition. He fumbled with shaking hands until he found the right one; hurriedly he opened the door and then ran down the hallway, back into his own room. The boy was just as he left him, lying unconscious on his side, his face still showing pain beyond imagining, even in his current state.

Lancer rushed to the boy and crouched down. He dared not to kneel on the glass-strewn floor and hoped that he wouldn't lose his balance, his past cheerleading experience helped. He slowly brought his arm towards the boy, scared to touch him, not knowing what to expect. As the tips of his fingers came into contact with the boys left shoulder, Lancer gave an involuntary shudder. The boy felt as cold as ice. Pushing the boy gently, so he was lying on his back, Lancer surveyed him for further injuries. He couldn't help but stare at the boy's odd yet familiar looking appearance. He was the most human-like ghost he had ever seen. Most ghosts took on odd appearances with different colored skin, like blue, green or red, but this boy's skin was almost the same as any other Caucasian with the exception of his glow. If it weren't for the glowing skin and electric green eyes, he would look like any other teen that just dyed his hair to fit into some crazy punk fashion. The boy looked even more human with the glow of his skin slowly fading every second, getting dimmer and dimmer.

Getting past the appearance and forcing himself to focus, he looked over the boy's body again for any signs of injury. He noticed a few bruises here and there but with the outfit he couldn't get a good look anywhere besides his face. Then, he noticed a small slit-like cut in the boy's right side, the one that he had been laying on nearly the entire time. The only reason Lancer had even noticed it was because of the sudden flow of glowing green blood…'ectoplasm' had been what the ghost hunters called it.

Lancer wasn't sure how bad of a cut it was, but he knew he had to do something to stop the flow, not sure whether or not ghosts could 'die' of ectoplasm loss, but not wanting to take the chance. He stood up, his knees and back shooting pains from the uncomfortable position he had been in, going over to the lost and found box, he kept in the back of the classroom, and grabbed a P.E. t-shirt someone had lost. He tried to rip the shirt so he could make a proper tourniquet, but failed miserably and decided to just ball it up and put it against the wound, giving as much pressure as possible.

When he was certain that it was alright to leave the ghost boy there for a minute without him bleeding out, he rushed back into the hall and headed for the main office where the nurse's office was located. Thank Shakespeare I am the Vice Principal and have keys to the whole school.

After letting himself into the nurse's office, he started grabbing as many supplies as he could. Not sure of what would and wouldn't work on a ghost, he grabbed four rolls of gauze, a bottle of alcohol, a bottle of Tylenol, a few sterilized rags, and an instant ice pack. The ice pack made sense, and no sense at the same time, considering that the boy felt like an ice pack himself

Satisfied with his first aid supplies he went back to his room where the boy was the same as before…except he was panting. Panting? Ghosts don't breathe, do they? Either way, Lancer was alarmed. He rushed to the boy and tried his best to get him into a sitting position so that his lungs (or whatever ghosts used to breathe) would be able to expand, allowing more oxygen in. The t-shirt lay on the floor completely soaked through with the glowing green liquid.

Lancer was beginning to panic. The boy sounded as though he was dying but he's a ghost and ghosts couldn't die again… could they? Lancer wasn't sure of anything anymore; everything he once believed seemed to be proved wrong.

He grabbed the alcohol, figuring he should at least take care of the boy's bleeding side, if nothing else. At least it would be one less thing to worry about…or at the very least not as much about. He reluctantly laid the boy back down, this time on his other side, so he could have full access to the injury. He carefully poured the alcohol over the wound and to his surprise, the boy screamed.

Lancer jumped, spilling some of the alcohol on the floor. The boy had his eyes shut tight and his face contorted with pain. After a few seconds the boy seemed to relax a little, but his eyes were still shut tight. Lancer moved a little closer putting the half empty bottle of alcohol down and picking up a gauze wrap.

Lancer once again gently placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, this time speaking to him. "Phantom?" Lancer spoke nervously.

The boy squinted up, looking through his dark lashes toward the man. Lancer took this as a response and said, "I'm trying to help you. You have a deep wound on your side and I need to bandage it before you lose anymore bloo…uh…ectoplasm." Lancer said, for once, not sounding like the confident teacher he prided himself of being when among his students.

The boy gave a slight nod and relaxed a little more, but he stayed coherent. Lancer helped the boy sit up, keeping a steadying hand on his arm as he began wrapping it around the boy, over his suit. The boy would wince every time it would go over the cut, but other than that, stayed silent and motionless. His breathing was more under control but still not normal in human terms. His dull green eyes followed Lancer's every move.

After the bandaging, Lancer tried speaking to him again hoping to find out what more he could do. "Can you tell me what happened?" he asked, this time with more authority, more like his usual self.

"Ghost attacked…" Phantom replied, his voice just as raspy as it was before, but this time loud enough for Lancer to hear him. Lancer had already assumed as much and raised his eyebrows urging the boy silently to say more.

Phantom tried to pull himself up a little so he would be sitting a little straighter. He scooted very slowly, the few inches to the nearest desk and leaned against it with a sigh. He looked up at Lancer again who had crouched down to be at more of an eye level with the boy.

"I don't… really know." He said between breaths. "I think I was tricked…"

"By whom?" Mr. Lancer asked, clearly intrigued.

"I don't know." Phantom said, closing his eyes for a few seconds, he took in a few shaky breaths before going on, "Technus… he surprised me… caught me off guard…he's no threat…" Phantom looked confused but the expression was soon replaced by pain once again.

"I don't think we can stay here much longer. The Janitors are supposed to be here by 4 and I think it best that we leave before they arrive." Lancer said standing up while looking at the clock, which read 3:39.

He looked back down at the ghost, who was giving him a strange look before he gasped out "We?"

"Well, I'm surely not going to just leave you here, Mr. Phantom." Lancer replied as though this should be obvious.

"You mean… you're really… helping me?" the boy asked, ending in a coughing fit that confused Lancer even more, but he decided to ignore it.

"Yes, I really am helping you; I just hope I do not regret this. For now I am going to assume you are good."

The boy looked at Lancer curiously, then gave him a weak smile and whispered "Thanks."

"Let's get you up. My car is parked right outside the exit doors." Lancer told him while moving forward to help the boy.

"Where are…we…going?" He gasped out, his breathing becoming irregular again.

"My house of course, I do not know where else I would be able to take you. The hospital, to my knowledge, does not exactly take ghosts in as patients."

The boy nodded slowly, and then something odd happened. The boy had moved slightly, so it would be easier for him to be helped up, when he let out a strangled cry and then blacked out once again. The glow around the boy, which had been so dim while they were speaking, glowed bright white. It was so bright that Lancer had to block his eyes from the incredible glare, which suddenly flickered before going out completely.

Tell me what you think; again I greatly appreciate any input.

Anonymous3776: I'll answer anyway. I guess I'm more of a habitual writer. I used to write all the time when I was in High School then after Katrina hit New Orleans I kind of stopped writing completely. This is my first story I'm writing since then so I'm really nervous, not sure how well I'll do. I have 18 novels I have written, 5 I had wanted to get published but had never bothered to really try. So now I'm trying fan fiction. Wish me luck!

~Mia