Alright! One, I do not own Danny Phantom. We'll just get that out of the way right here.

Two... I'd like to thank everyone for the positive response to this story. I wasn't going to post it, but I'm glad I changed my mind. So, I present to you, chapter two. It's shorter than the last one, but I should get the next one up pretty quick. I'm not sure how often I'll update, but it should be at least once a week.

Danny groaned, trying to shut his eyes tighter against the light that was shining through his eyelids. He whimpered softly, curling up to try to hide his face. The light hurt, even with his eyes closed. Curling in on himself hurt as well, sending fire racing through his limbs and claws digging into his side. Not real claws, though. Or, he didn't think they were real, at least.

He forced himself to crack his eyes open, just enough to see, hissing as the light seared his eyes. Why was it so bright? He clenched his teeth and looked down. His suit was torn, and sickly green scabs coated his flesh, ectoplasm leaking from them where they had torn as he'd moved. No actual claws though. That was good news, at least.

There was grass, however. What the heck was up with that? Was he outside? Why on earth was he sleeping outside? And why was he in his ghost form? He usually shifted back in his sleep…

It explained why the light was so bright though. It was the sun.

He groaned and sat up, arms trembling as he pushed himself into a sitting position. What had even happened last night? Why was he in a field? He lifted a hand to his head, pulling it away in disgust as something cold squelched onto his face. He grimaced, letting out a quiet sound of displeasure. His hand was drenched in ectoplasm.

Made sense, if he'd been so injured, but… it just didn't feel right. It was too dark to be from him, and… there was no blood mixed in with it. He hesitated, before bringing his gloved hand back to his face and sniffing it. It was definitely ectoplasm, and it definitely wasn't his. He stared in shock. What had he done to get so much of the stuff, which was, in this form, basically ghostly blood, on just his hands? He tried to shake it off, but only a few flecks of the sticky substance flew from his fingers.

He shuddered, trying to remember what had happened. He'd been home. He'd just got back. And then his ghost sense went off… And then… and then something. He couldn't quite remember. Why couldn't he just remember? He bit his lip. Or, he tried too. He bit down on his fingers instead.

Ectoplasm slid down his throat.

Danny gagged, resisting the urge to wipe off his tongue with his hands, spitting out as much of the stuff as he could. That was disgusting. That was… that was just super gross. There wasn't any other way to describe it.

He reached out, wiping his hands on the grass, which didn't work very well. It just refused to come off. Great. He was stuck with it then.

And then he remembered he could turn intangible.

"Duh." He said, voice slightly distorted, as was the norm for his ghostly form. "I always forget about that…" He reached for his core, freezing as he realized how depleted it was. It usually recharged in his sleep, at least a little, so for it to still be this bad… His core felt weird as well. Off. If he had to explain it, he'd say it felt more… clear. More a part of him, though he hadn't thought it could be.

But it was still nearly completely depleted. He really, really needed to figure out what happened. Was cleaning himself up worth using up the rest, or at least most, of his energy? Looking down at the ectoplasm still coating his hands, he decided that it was. Or, he thought so, at least. He wanted the stuff off of him, but… he couldn't bring himself to turn intangible. It felt like such a waste. Not of energy. Of the ectoplasm.

"What are you even talking about?" He muttered to himself. "What does that even mean?"

He glared at his hand. It was odd. He knew he wanted something, but he couldn't think of what. His core seemed to almost vibrate, edging him on. He frowned, but closed his eyes and followed his instincts.

He stuck his hand into his mouth.

The bitter tang of ectoplasmic energy was somehow sweeter now than it usually was, though not by much. It wasn't like he normally ate the stuff on purpose or anything, but the Ghost Zone was practically made of it, and he'd bitten his tongue and coughed it up enough to know what it tasted like. He pulled his hand away from his mouth, just slightly, licking his fingers clean. It worked much better than his previous attempts to clean his hands, for whatever reason. Danny's core thrummed, taking in the remnants of power that were left in the ectoplasm. He hummed, content.

And then the reality of everything hit him.

Bile rose in his throat, his eyes wide, and he hunched over, side flaring with agony, vomiting. Instead of whatever acid and food mix he'd expected, all that fell from his lips was the ectoplasm he'd just eaten.

Oddly enough, he felt no desire to do anything with it now except turn away from it. No, not odd. That was good. Normal. Man, his thoughts were messed up. What was wrong with him? Was he sick? Had he hit his head?

Either way, or, he supposed, with any other reason there was to explain it, he needed to get back home. Back to Amity Park. To his town. His people. It was his. And so many ghosts attacked anyway. He hissed, core pulsing as a sudden anger flowed through him. They all needed to learn. They needed to suffer. He'd destroyed one already, the rest shouldn't be that difficult.

He froze.

Destroyed? No. He'd never-

He shuddered, flashes of a half hidden face, of Valerie, dead, and a core running through his mind. The core wasn't his. It was Alkadih's. The ghost he'd been fighting. It belonged to her. And he'd destroyed it. Crushed it. That ectoplasm was hers.

And he'd eaten it.

He hunched over, head spinning, stomach churning, but having nothing to expel. He dry heaved, side screaming, collapsing back to the ground. Why had he done that? Why had he-how could he even thought of-

What was wrong with him?

Both the killing, and the eating. Why had he done either of those things? How could he have done that? She had been attacking, sure, but she hadn't deserved to be destroyed.

His core thrummed in his chest, humming. It had regained a bit of power from the ectoplasm, feeding off the last bits of energy left in it from Alkadih. She was dead. She was gone, forever. Because of him. And then he'd eaten-

He gagged.

There was definitely something very, very wrong with him. Why had he even had the urge to do that? Why had he followed through?

He needed help. He needed Jazz, and Sam, and Tucker. They were his friends. His family. They were his. They would help him. They would.

He struggled to his feet, head spinning, searching the horizon for Amity. It wasn't too far away. He could fly there. He definitely couldn't walk, but he could fly.

He pulled himself upwards, feet leaving the ground. His head spun for a moment, vision blurring, before everything snapped back into focus.

"Come on, just get back home. Then you can rest." He muttered. Jazz would help him then. They had medical supplies in his room. If he could just get home, it would all be okay. Clutching his now freely bleeding side, he began his flight back to Amity.

As soon as he crossed into Amity Park he felt better. Not completely, but better. His chest felt lighter, his stomach settled. His core was thrumming happily, and he just felt… good. It was great to be back in his territory. His town. His home.

He drifted through the air, weaving between buildings. He'd go faster, but he really just wanted to enjoy Amity. And… he had been wanting to go to Fenton Works, but now that he'd remembered Valerie and he was here… He wanted to check on her. He needed to.

Hunter or not, she was his friend. She was his.

And, wow, when did he get so possessive? Of the town, of his friends, of… everyone in Amity, really. Heck, even Dash. All of them. He knew that most ghosts were extremely possessive and territorial, but he'd never really gotten that. Not this much, at least. Apparently it was finally catching up to him.

He paused at an intersection, debating. Go left, and he'd be home. He could get help. Go right, and he could check on Valerie.

"Well, right is always the right decision… right?" He whispered to himself, biting his lip. His teeth felt sharper than usual… "Yeah, I've heard that somewhere before."

Therefore, he had someone else to blame for his choices, if they turned out to be poor ones. He wasn't sure who'd come up with the phrase, but now he had evidence to fall back on if this was a mistake. So with that, he darted towards Valerie's apartment..

He picked up his pace now, the need to make sure Valerie was safe stronger than his desire to enjoy his flight. Buildings passed right and left, and people walked on the streets below. He smiled. Even Alkadih had seen how great Amity was. It was wonderful. It was perfect. And it was his. It belonged to him.

He frowned.

"Seriously, what is up with my head?" He muttered, raising one hand to his forehead as he continued to fly. As soon as he checked on Valerie, he needed to get to Jazz. Maybe she could help him figure this all out. But first… "Gotta find her."

He flew quickly, not caring about the energy he was wasting, or the way his side seemed to bleed more with every pulse of his core.

The apartment was a bust.

It was empty, both father and daughter gone. Anxiety rippled through his core as he searched, looking for any sign of Valerie. Where was she? Where could she have gone? Did Alkadih actually kill her before taking him to the field? Or, maybe her employers sent somebody else to finish the job?

Could they have killed her?

Deep, boiling anger rose on Danny's chest. Hatred. If they had laid even a finger on her then he didn't even know what he would do to them. It wasn't until he found a calendar that he remembered that she was probably at school. He was already moving to leave before he realized that he probably shouldn't go.

He was definitely still low on energy, and there was the matter of his injuries. The one in his side was definitely the worst, but with how he felt it was likely he had cuts and bruises as well. No broken bones, as far as he could tell, but even so. The occasional injury he showed up with was bad enough. If he shifted into his human form to go to school right now, he'd probably look like he'd been hit by a car. On top of that, he also just didn't want to deal with it. He wanted to be home, with his friends and Jazz. But he needed to make sure Valerie wasn't hurt.

"...Okay, just stop by for a bit, check on her, maybe find Jazz, Tucker and Sam… take them with me, maybe?" He smiled. It was the perfect plan. At least, it was to him. A small voice in the back of his mind said that he was too unstable to be making decisions right now. He ignored it.

Plan in place, he slipped through the wall of the apartment, and headed towards Casper High.

The school was full. That was pretty normal.

There were people everywhere, students wandering the halls. Their noise grated on his ears as he floated invisibly above them all. Dash was talking to Paulina, while Star and the other satellites talked with Kwan and Dash's other friends. And, yeah. He was not going to deal with the A-listers today.

He wasn't sure what time it was, but this was either a break or first period hadn't started yet. He stayed near the ceiling, heading towards Valerie's locker. She would probably be there, right? Right.

Danny flew through the halls, scanning the faces of the people he passed, until he finally saw her. Just as he'd thought, she was at her locker, pulling out a few books and putting them into her backpack. She looked a bit tired, but that was normal for her now. Ever since she'd become a hunter, she'd been patrolling the city at night, like he did. Not as much as him (at least, he didn't think so), but enough to be exhausting.

His worry gave way to relief as he watched her, as he realized she was okay. Alkadih did keep her promise to him then… He pushed away his guilt at the reminder, biting his lip. Would… would Valerie still be a target? Would he be a target? Alkadih's employers would probably still be after Valerie, for whatever reason, and… they would be angry that Alkadih was gone, right? He'd been the one to kill her, so would they be after him as well? It made sense.

Danny bit back a groan. He didn't want to deal with this. He just… maybe tomorrow. Maybe then he could think, but today? No.

...Should he warn Valerie about it before she left? If she was being targeted, she needed to know. But if he tried to talk to her as Phantom, she'd probably shoot him, even if he was injured. Heck, especially if he was already injured. He'd be an easier target then. In human form, he'd need a really good explanation for how he knew… and, possibly, for why he had a giant hole in his side. Which, now that he remembered, still hurt. A lot. It hadn't fully scabbed over again, and a bit of ectoplasm still oozed from it.

A single drop of the bright green liquid ran down his side, falling to the tiled floor below. Now not in contact with him, it was fully visible.

He dropped down, quickly trying to wipe it from the tiles with a hand. The stuff just spread, forming a larger pool. He hissed softly, darting back up to the ceiling before someone could walk into him or something. The stain was… You know what? It would be fine. What were the chances of anyone noticing a little pool of ectoplasm? Low. Hopefully. That kind of thing was normal at this point.

But… there was something wrong with it. It was solid green. That wasn't right. His blood… it was always a mix of green and red, human and ghost halves coming together. But that was just a drop. That wasn't cause for alarm. If he just looked down at his side, he would see everything was fine. If he let himself turn visible, he would see, his blood was still red and green. It would be, he knew it.

He could fly up outside, and check. He could make sure he was okay. But… he couldn't. He wouldn't let himself. Fear held him back. What if… what if something was wrong? What would he do then?

… He just couldn't do this today. He couldn't think. He couldn't act. He couldn't… do this.

Maybe he should just find his friends. And Jazz. They might have ideas. And… they could make sure he was okay. Maybe Jazz could find a way to warn Valerie too. And then they could all just go home. Rest, and make sure they were all fine.

"Y-yeah…" he whispered, quite enough that nobody else could hear. "Just find them. It'll be okay. You'll be okay. J-just find them."