Chapter Two Inferiority Complex
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Two young men stood quietly in the looming aircraft hangar that had been built on the property, it being just one of three ridiculous structures that made up the FentonWorks compound. The tall blond man was fairly muscular and always stood rigid while his scrawny raven haired companion always looked like he was about to collapse because of the way he held himself, unbalanced and limp. One was proud and controlled; the other was insecure and disassociated, but regardless of these obvious differences the two made a compatible pair. Keeping a childhood friend was not an easy task to commit to yet somehow Johnny and Ayden stuck together through just about everything.
"So what are you going to do now?" Johnny asked lighting up a cigarette and regarding his ward, his friend, with an almost bored expression. The man was hung over from yesterday's disaster and was now rooting through his father's compound. Ever since he woke up, haggard and still belligerent he'd been running around the old home like a neurotic mess. He hadn't even bothered unpacking his things; he seemed far more interested in the old things still lying about the house. Ayden had faced a bit of a shock to find his old room exactly as he'd left it three years ago.
He groaned under his breath and pressed a hand to his forehead in attempt to assuage the pounding in his skull. "I don't know I have headache," Ayden groaned and rubbed his temples he sighed and shot a quick glance over at his friend and stood up right. For a moment the world spun and he was dizzy but he found a way to collect himself before falling over or puking; a new personal best. "But I guess I should pick up the pieces my dad left behind for me. I don't have a choice," he answered monotonously. "Team Phantom, FentonWorks, I just inherited it all. No matter how stupid and pointless it may be."
"I don't know Ayden; it was the empire your father created that saved this world from disasters of epic proportions more than once. He established something worth while," Johnny noted offhandedly, he unlike Ayden had been fascinated by Danny and everything the man had contributed to the world. He wasn't just a hero he was a philanthropist.
"He established a necessity. People wouldn't need to depend on it if he'd never created it in the first place. He deprived generations of adapting to new problems by building his scientific "super hero" industry. World leaders, military personnel, everyday people, they all rely on what he crafted. They rely on half-ghosts," he added in a scalding tone. As he dug further through a random box he'd found he tried to forget just what kind of power his father had and what he left him with. "You know if he'd had the mind to he could've run the entire world."
Johnny flicked his cigarette butt out of the hanger and it fizzled out under the drizzle of the late-afternoon. He watched his friend pace around the hangar in the corner of his eye. "He practically did from the looks of it."
"I guess...in his own way." The raven haired man shrugged as he ran his hand over the old Specter Speeder that was no longer used. He wanted to fix it up and at the same time he wanted to blow the whole compound to pieces. FentonWorks was just one large homage to his father's work and life. Ayden hated the idea of just having to live here let alone work on innovating and perfecting everything the "great" and late Danny Fenton had created.
"He could have very easily dismantled governments but he never did any of that. Never thought of it really, he was always caught up in this romanticized version of life. Heroes, damsels in distress, villains, the battle between good and evil. He drew the line like it was easily decipherable."
"Let me guess, it's not. You're so dramatic," Johnny laughed running a hand through his shaggy blond hair.
Ayden snorted. "People aren't just black and white, there are shades of gray you know," he irately explained feeling like he didn't owe an explanation to his friend. Bored and annoyed he strolled over to his father's desk, one of many desks placed within the seemingly never ending compound. Somehow there was order to this madness and Ayden needed to figure out the system again. This desk contained just some of the notes on his father's air crafts and transportation vehicles. His eyes fell on a brown frame and he slowly picked it up while staring deeply into his own eyes.
Like it or not reality was slowing catching up with him. His father had been a world renowned man; his father was dead now. Ayden was all that was left of the Fenton name. He was the existing legacy to a very rare and nearly extinct breed of human; he was the last and only Phantom.
No other half-ghosts existed anymore, Vlad Plasmius was destroyed years ago, Danielle Phantom destroyed over a decade ago, and now Danny Phantom as of last weekend no longer dwelled in halfa existence. Just like that; what seemed to be a growing trend inexplicably was now an official rarity and if Ayden didn't pass on his genes he would take with him that legacy.
The young adult was suddenly feeling very alone.
He'd always experienced loneliness as a child and well into his adult years, but this was different. Before there were others who could have an understanding of what it was like. Now no one in the vast universe knew what it was to be divided between the natural and paranormal world and to add to this burden the weight of world had been thrust upon him. His hands began to shake as his grip tightened on the frame. He may have drifted from his father over the past couple of years but it was comforting to know a man like him was out there. Someone who could easily comprehend his situation and maybe add some explanation to it, but that man was gone and Ayden was alone, more so than he'd ever known.
Releasing the frame he'd been gripping, he let it going crashing to floor. Ayden brushed briskly past his friend walking out of the hanger into the rainfall the look on his blank. Johnny frowned as he walked over glancing at what could only be a photograph. Turning it over he saw the photo under the glass of a boy sickeningly similar to the man, together both were smiling. He shook his head at the sight of his friend's silhouette disappearing in the gray blur.
This was clearly the beginning of something terrible.
Ayden sat exhausted at a dimly lit local bar. He couldn't bring himself to go back to the compound; everything of the past was there, everything from his childhood, everything he'd desensitized himself to or so he thought he had. He threw his head back to swallow another shot of vodka trying desperately to drown the image out and anything else for that matter. He wanted it all to go away before it really started to bother him.
Here today gone tomorrow!!! A flier advertised in bold excited letters on a clean sheet of paper across from where Ayden had taken his seat. He sneered at it reading the four words over and over until they were imprinted in his mind, until it was the only slogan he knew. If anyone asked him what he thought he might mindlessly repeat it as though the words were his own. He didn't even know what they were advertising and he didn't care.
But that stupid picture, the slogan in his mind appeared beneath it, in bright clumsy letters with three exclamation points. Mentally he shredded the image, tearing away at every attachment his naive younger self had held when that picture was taken. He knew what the words meant, the very existentialist pretension they carried, but people seemed to obfuscate meaning or perhaps they chose to bastardize it. He held his hand up for another shot; some things were more obvious than others.
For now he was trying to drink that picture away and he was waiting. Waiting because he knew Johnny's job was to guard his body and to do so he needed to be within a good distance. Also Johnny was his best friend and it would only be a matter of time before he was standing behind him. At the same time he hoped he never came looking for him, he hoped the man would give up on him. Johnny must've been a saint because even Ayden couldn't put up with himself half the time.
The familiar feeling of self-loathing wracked him and he hunched his back to try and appear as small and unnoticeable as possible. That endeavor was impossible as he bore the exact resemblance and he could never escape the prying eyes and low whisperings. They knew his heritage, it was written all over his face.
"Ain't you that Fenton kid?" The voice struck him, the sharp accusing inflections of the brassy tone deaf voice grated his nerves. Almost the entire bar had been staring at him since he'd entered but he had dreaded that one of them may actually start to talk to him. Mostly, his conversations with people were degrading at best.
Swallowing his fourth shot of vodka with a throaty grunt, Ayden finally decided to acknowledge the stranger. "I'm not a kid," he murmured keeping his head down and his shoulders tensed. He rubbed his neck as part of his nervous habit, the knuckle of his index finger always came up to meet the same spot. Whenever he felt anxiety or stress he always touched his neck and for those who got a close enough look at him it was pretty obvious why. Almost every time someone started an unpleasant conversation with him he always felt like a caged animal. He wasn't trapped, he was never trapped, he could always leave and if he was held back he could go unconventionally. Another supposed perk of his inheritance.
"Well you ain't no man like yer father was," he slurred. The man was intoxicated, he pulled at the rim of his red cap while clenching and unclenching his jaw. His steel eyes searching the young adult with curious loathing, even he wasn't sure when he'd started hating the kid he just knew one day he did and so did everyone else. If everyone else disliked the youth then that made it right, the heir deserved no respect.
Ayden slowly made eye contact unaware of the impact his recognizable ice blue eyes made on people. If he didn't know better the man could've sworn he was dealing with Danny Fenton; lucky for him it was only Ayden. "I'm not like him, no. But that doesn't make me any less of a person."
"It does make you a coward though." The courage, undoubtedly was coming directly from the man's whiskey coupled with his inherit ability to stick his foot directly in his mouth. He'd never met Ayden Fenton before but he knew he hated him more than anything. "Your responsibilities aren't hardly anything on account of those powers you were so gifted with. Us normal people, we're the true fighters, we don't got any ghost powers to aid us in our wars and yet we stand up unflinching while you hide behind yer name."
Ayden's eyes narrowed and he became aware with the crawling of his flesh that they'd flashed. He hated his eyes; he hated how he couldn't always reign in his emotions. Among the halfas of the world this condition was referred to endearingly as "the scary eyes" a term Ayden absolutely despised. Maybe because his "scary eyes" were violet, perhaps the least threatening of all colors to the masculine world and a painful reminder of what he didn't have.
He threw his money on the bar and eyed the man. He stood up and watched the man slowly begin to tense up and recoil as though he expected Ayden to attack him. Instead he shook his shoulders and gave the man a passive glance. "Then you can be the hero," he offered callously while leaving the unwelcoming atmosphere with nothing left but the cold air that his words seemed to have created.
Once outside he shivered and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dark gray landscape enshrouded in rain. He flipped up the collar of his coat as he walked in the rain; he could easily get home by simply flying or stay dry by becoming intangible. He refused to do either one. He hated using his powers unless it was absolutely necessary and even then he disliked it. The air was cold and the main road leading back to the compound in five miles was surprisingly empty. The road seemed abandoned without a single headlight daring to shine on the unkempt pavement.
Ayden couldn't shake the jumbled thoughts from his head, he was more confused then he'd ever been. He wasn't entirely sure if he was upset that his father was dead or upset that his destiny had always been amounting to this. He'd always been anxious over this inescapable path and only a few months ago he thought he was coming to the light at the end of the tunnel. Freedom. He was breaking free from his predetermined identity and was making life his own. For a while he was starting to believe that he didn't have to be Ayden Fenton the half ghost Phantom of Team Phantom. For a while he convinced himself he could be just Ayden, the guy who got his degree and worked for a living; no limelight, no press, no expository stories, nothing. Then the old man kicked the bucket and just like that the doors were shut and he was restricted to the old four walls he'd been brought up in.
He couldn't escape his path; it had always been this from the moment he'd been born. He had no choice in the matter and never would. Grinding his teeth the young adult looked forward through the haze of the rainfall. He was drenched to the bone but couldn't feel it. He shivered and pulled himself closer together, partly to retain heat and partly to keep himself from falling apart; the threat of the latter was very real, at least he felt that it was.
His mind swirled around his confrontation with that man, the way he spoke to him, like he wasn't worthy of respect like he wasn't human. People always thought the worst of him because people were more perceptive then he liked to admit. They were always right when they called him cowardly or selfish, he knew he had so much more than others could ever obtain. But they never understood that he didn't ask for it, his personality did not match what he was expected to be. He knew he was all the terrible things they thought and he stopped justifying himself.
Truth was he hated himself more than they could ever hate him.
Somewhere along the five miles from the bar to the compound Ayden heard an unmistakable cry for help. He sighed audibly just as a short wisp dictating his next actions made itself present. Grumbling with disdain Ayden allowed the transformation to take him and in the young adult's place stood a spry looking ghost, not unlike the once great Danny Phantom himself. The slight differences were sometimes overlooked but other times were so blatantly obvious that people would resist Ayden's brand of heroics until the situation escalated to exigent proportions.
Ayden's father had taught him never to ignore a cry for help. He said it could be the difference between life and death and the people would turn it against him if he decided not to respond. It was one thing to respond, he had said, and find it was a false alarm but it is quite another to ignore the pleas only to have someone's death on your shoulders. Some days Ayden wished he was deaf.
The creature was large and disproportionate; its spine was harshly protruding from its ashen gray back. It was one of the inhuman ghosts, the ones that looked like monsters that no one could explain. Some claimed they were demons, his grandfather said they were just shattered spirits that found a new form. Either way Ayden disliked them the most because they acted on the most primal instincts and didn't understand battle strategy, they just attacked to kill.
"Orb," the creature growled holding a man no older than Ayden ten feet in the air. When it choked out the human words green saliva dripped from it's large crooked toothy jaw. It was not familiar with human language nor was it even familiar with talking, but it wanted something and it was going to get it.
The man turned his face away shaking. His short black hair was now splattered with green goo from the creature; the look in his eyes was wild with a fear of death. "S-someone...h-h-help!"
Ayden immediately charged at the creature from behind, throwing its unbalanced composure completely off and causing it to drop its victim. The disgruntled ghost turn around and violently thrashed at Ayden with its gruesomely large claws. Ayden attacked back forcefully; whenever he was hurt in a fight he only became angry. The monster leaped at the young Phantom and pinned him to the ground placing its ashen snout uncomfortably close to his face. He could see the swirling crimson eyes in full detail and could smell the death wafting from its jagged mouth.
"Orb," it demanded throatily. The half-ghost struggled under its claws, the beast must've been over ten feet tall and when tangible it weighed probably over five hundred pounds. The young Phantom hated that ghosts could have weight because this one was crushing him.
"Get off of me!" Ayden shouted and vaulted the disgusting creature off of him with a powerful blast of energy. After a few more moments of abuse the ghost vanished. Rubbing his neck nervously at the retreat of the creature, he couldn't understand what it had wanted but it had specifically attacked for a reason. The single fact that it had tried to make demands was more than enough to set off warning signals. For now he'd ignore that thing; as long as it didn't come back or as long as it only came after him everything was going to be fine.
He turned his attention to the victim who was writhing on the ground holding his arm and making pained grunts through his teeth. "Oh man, are you okay?" Ayden asked as he hoisted the man who was roughly his age and pretty similar in appearance off the ground. Another warning sign Ayden was going to choose to ignore, sure it registered but he tucked the worry away rationalizing that he would think about it later.
"You're useless," the man snapped and let out a gasp for having jerked his arm.
"I think it's broken," the half-ghost observed softly trying to ignore the man's hostility. "Maybe I should take you to a hospital."
"Are you kidding?" he scoffed, "I'd rather take my chances with that…that monster than have you take me anywhere. I'll find my own way there thank you very much."
Ayden frowned and followed the man a little behind as he limped down the road. The man kept his face sour as he tried to ignore the strange half ghost hovering just a few feet from him. He tried to forget how eerie it was to see someone he knew was a human moving without any legs. "Are you sure? I mean the hospital is pretty far and you don't look so good," Ayden pursued as he came to block the man's way. He may have not enjoyed being a hero but that didn't mean he had no humanity at all; he clung to what was left of his faith desperately and hoped one day to be rewarded with a reciprocated respect.
"Gee I wonder why?" he snapped his dark blue eyes reflecting rage as he walked through the half-ghost, shivering as he did so. "This is all your fault you know. If it weren't for you and your ghost freakishness that thing never would've attacked me!" he shouted while waving his uninjured arm about dramatically.
"I didn't mean to...I tried," Ayden returned in a helpless stammer, recoiling after having been passed through as though he weren't even there. He was so insignificant people didn't even bother to pretend like they had to walk around him.
"You tried? If you tried then why the hell am I injured? You are the worst human being to ever have existed; you're nothing but a freak. Stay away from me; I don't need your help."
The stranger stalked off, limping away mostly, and Ayden let him go. He, unlike his father before him, knew when to let people go because he knew when he wasn't welcome. Transforming dully and landing skillfully on his feet after a short drop, he stood in the rain for a moment squinting to see the form disappear into the gray. Sure he could have fought the guy who was clearly ungrateful but he had bigger things to worry about, like perhaps the multimillion dollar establishment and the diplomatic responsibilities resting unbalanced on his weary shoulders. Not to mention he was going to have to face an onslaught of disapproval for his actions yesterday, not from the public, but from his makeshift family.
Ayden turned away to continue his own trek back home rubbing his neck weakly as he went. At least he could handle the public's response to him; he was used to the way they acted. This was always his hero's welcome; every where he went every time he utilized his ghost half he was treated with the same response; bitter accusations and ungrateful graces. They always wanted to be saved just not by him, they'd take his help but they repaid him with hostility. Ayden was not beloved amongst the people he was a nuisance. Shaking off the slight tinge of bitter disappointment Ayden continued walking and tried to forget just how useless he was.
Forgetting wasn't easy.
Thank you all for the nice reviews, its so nice to hear some feedback s'much appreciated. I must say I love how pathetic this kid is. And it doesn't stop there...