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Powerless

Chapter 2: The Gears in Their Heads Go Round and Round


Danny felt truly nauseated. His shaking fingertips ran down his borrowed face with a horrible sense of déjà vu. "Oh man," he whispered. Desiree's voice inflected at his command. "I'm Desiree. I'm freakin' Desiree."

This very much reminded him of the time the ghost Poindexter had stolen his body and left his own for Danny. It had been disconcerting, to find himself in a new dimension and new body that was definitely not his. But at least that time, they were both guys.

This?

This was beyond weird.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to concentrate to push himself out of the body. But he was not simply overshadowing Desiree's body—he was its only occupant. Her nervous system reacted to his mind with not even a semblance of alien hesitance. There was nothing beyond him, no second mind resting latent beneath his.

In perhaps just as much of a terrifying realization, his (Desiree's?) power core was flickering poorly. Danny felt the weakness that ran through the body as a result. "What the hell?" he breathed, a bit dizzy, as if tidal waves of energy were leeching out of him all at once.

He began to realize that Desiree's power core did not pull in energy on its own. It needed some element—like Spectra needed misery—to survive. The feeling was not entirely like that of starvation, in which one's entire body nearly ached to the point of sickness.

He began to float down from the building's window, unable to keep himself up as he held his head, Desiree's soft, black hair weaving through his shaking fingertips. "Holy shit," he whispered, only to feel more fear overwhelm him at the sound of Desiree's voice again instead of his own.

He tried to think strategy over the static of the panic, staring at the body that believed it was his but definitely was not. He had to contact someone—get someone from help. Maybe he could call Sam, and she'd laugh, but…

Oh, wait.

That was right. He and Sam broke up.

He blinked at the weight of his thought, not quite understanding the full consequence of what had transpired at lunch time. They had broken up. Meaning, she would not help him. Meaning, she would not be there for him for the first time in nearly a decade.

Meaning, he was alone.

He swallowed hard, trying not to think too hard about the gravity of that thought. Maybe he could get to Tucker and plead for help, but Tucker had been taking Sam's side more and more. It made hanging out with him painful because he stood as a constant reminder of good, old days that no longer existed.

No, Tucker—whom he had blown off for several weeks—would probably not help him either. At least for a while.

He needed someone who could help him now. He could maybe fly to Jazz, who was nearly halfway across the country at Yale, all hidden away in some psychology lab.

Yeah. Family. The only other member of Team Phantom. She'd help, no matter what.

He grimaced, realizing his sister was probably the only other person on the whole planet would look at the form of Desiree but know enough of the mind behind it to see her caged brother.

Which reminded him, icy horror storming down his spine, of the potential that his real body, his own body, was out there. Somewhere. Doing stuff under the command of…Desiree herself?

The thought terrified him more than he cared to admit. "Oh man," he began to breathe a little harder, Desiree's lungs expanding and contracting shallowly. "This is bad. Very bad."

His mind raced. What had even caused this? Why had he ended up in Desiree's body? How would he reverse it?

But as he began to situate himself, forcing this weak body of his to begin flying all the way to Yale, the sound of rushing winds surrounded him, despite no winds pressing against him.

And a voice, like a muffled radio reel, wrapped him up in a cacophony of syllables and sounds.

I wish, some man's voice echoed in his head, I had the most beautiful woman in the world, right here, right now.

And then he realized that it was a wish. And Desiree fed off of wishes and the desires of others.

He felt his power flow out of him at the command of another person, and the strange feeling left him nauseated as it both weakened and then quickly strengthened him. Of its own according, his new body began to recalibrate and delegate power. His fingers sparked with green light.

Danny stared at Desiree's hand in fear. His body began to ache with the need to obey the wish and draw in the energy hidden within the wish itself. He tried to fight it, afraid of what would happen if he didn't. He curled in on himself, the thick, long hair covering him like a blanket. "No, no," he breathed. "No wishes today. Let's not."

But the pain only became worse as he fought it. It felt as if he were being ripped into two, his mind straining against his body. Sweat began to pour down his forehead. He couldn't fight for much longer without serious consequences.

So he did the only thing he could to stop the pain. "I…I have to obey."

He let go.

As soon as he stopped fighting, his arms (er, Desiree's arms?) lifted up on their own volition. "What is this?" he cried, terrified. The wish sunk into his body deep, strengthening his power core until it thrummed. And from Desiree's hands, the green light spread in a massive bubble of power, pulling him forward through time and space.

The next thing Danny knew, he was floating a few inches off of a wooden floor, staring at an empty living room.

Or, almost empty living room.

A middle-aged man stood before the mantle of a fireplace. He seemed human and incredibly non-descript, the hard lines of his face shadowing dark in the light.

For a second, Danny stared at him dumbly. Then he remembered what the man's wish was. And he realized, with a hard swallow, just how much trouble he was in.

…The most beautiful woman in the world?

The man stared at the body of Desiree with great longing. "A ghost?" he breathed, but he was not afraid. Instead, he walked closer, his head tilting.

Desiree's high cheekbones and slender jaws complimented her large eyes and hourglass body. In every way, she truly was the most beautiful woman in the world—the reason why Sultans had destroyed empires for her, promised her all their lands, given her titles. Though she was a ghost now, her green skin sparkled like emeralds, smooth and supple.

The man's thick hand reached out, as if to test that Desiree was not simply a hallucination. Danny tried to move away, but he realized his body would not cooperate. Something beyond his control kept him frozen before the man. Desiree's power core and whole body stalled, because she was at the mercy of the wisher. Always.

The man's fingers lightly brushed against Desiree's shoulder. "You're real," the man breathed, nearly laughing. Alcohol twisted from his breath to leech into the air between them. "You're actually real. The wishing ghost."

Danny's eyes widened. "Don't touch me," he hissed. His arms trembled as he tried to fight against the power the wish held over him. Fear began to leech into his mind.

Hands locked around his waist anyways, fingernails digging into Desiree's skin. "Ah, but baby," the man said, "you gotta grant me my wish first. I said I wanted to have the most beautiful woman. And you are."

The man's free hand ran down Desiree's face, stroking the ghost's, trembling, full lips. His fingers were moist and leathery, and Danny felt disgust and terror pour through him—not only because he was being hit on while being in a girl's body, but also because something was horribly sleazy and disgusting about the man himself.

It was the look, the desire for an absolute stranger, the animalism that made Danny feel nauseated.

"Don't do this," Danny said, swallowing hard, his body trembling between its spell-bound command to remain for the man and Danny's own will to move like a bat out of hell. "Seriously. This is really wrong. If you only knew…"

He desperately tried to think of a way to circumvent the wish before…before—

The man's hand began to trail downwards, sweeping from his neck to a place Danny's eyes widened. "Okay, I'm not kidding. Please. Stop."

The man smiled, hand hesitating on the swell of Desiree's breast, fingers hooking into the collar of the material of her harem top. "Do you know how long it's been since I've had a woman?" the man moaned. "Especially one like you."

Danny squeezed his eyes shut with a flinch, trying to pretend that this was not happening. He was hyperventilating. "Seriously," he said, voice strangling. "Stop. Please. I don't want this, and I really don't think you do either."

The man began backing Desiree's body against a wall, eyeing it with a wild hunger. "Oh, I think we're going to have fun first."

He paid no mind to the hitching breathing of Danny, whose mind was beginning to crack under the strain.

"Stop," Danny begged. "Don't."

He scoffed, leaning in closer. "You say that, but I know what you really want."

The man pressed his lips against Desiree's neck, and Danny's mind shattered. "Get away!" he screamed, Desiree's voice ripping from his throat in a hoarse cry. His voice glitched on the last syllable. It squeaked like a hinge, and as he opened his mouth again, his voice swept back into an octave far more masculine. "Don't touch me!"

His voice. It was his own voice.

The man stiffened in sudden shock, backing away. "What the—?"

Then the clock on the wall above them ticked a few minutes past, and suddenly the pull that kept Desiree's body tied down dissipated. Danny immediately snatched his body away from the man, turning intangible and storming through the walls—far, far away from everything and everyone.

Something burned behind his eyes, and he did not want to think about the fact that it was tears.

The outside world swam with the cool air of an early fall afternoon and the soft shine of the sun. It looked far too cheery and unaware of what had almost just happened to him. He remained intangible as he flew, desperately searching for a place to collapse and maybe throw up his lunch.

The wish had taken him to the far side of the city, in an apartment complex. But beyond the buildings was the beginning of a small forest. He flew into the trees the way a refugee would flee from armies, and he grabbed onto one of the highest limbs in the tree with the most foliage. He shivered as he rested on the limb, curling in on himself. "Man, that was so wrong," he whispered, eyes wide with horror. He didn't realize he was still hyperventilating until he realized that awful sound was himself.

And then his mind kept going back, wondering what if what if what if

—What if the man had wished for an entire night? If his wish had not included the words "right now"?

Danny flinched at the thought, blinking hard as he stared at the ground below him in a daze. That man probably wouldn't have stopped and would have instead gotten more grabby, more disgusting, more needy…

A very real fear overcame him, which was that Desiree's afterlife was excessively more dangerous than he'd ever imagined. To be obedient to the wishes of others.

No wonder she twisted wishes as she did.

He rubbed at his arms, pulling up the material of the harem top in some mad attempt to brush away any memory of the man that had felt Desiree up. Whatever desire Danny had to look down Desiree's top was gone in that moment because he could not separate himself from the feeling of groping hands.

He wiped his throat where the man's lips had touched him with a disgusted hand, hardly even registering the fact that the voice coming out of Desiree's body was in fact his own now. "Gotta get out of here," he breathed shakily. "Gotta get help before…"

Then the invisible winds hit him again before he could even recognize them. I wish for a whole room of bunnies! cried a young, happy girl's voice.

And then his body quickly disappeared from the safety of the forest, forcing him to be pulled to another wish—this one from the small girl.

"Just bunnies?" Danny sighed in relief, suspiciously guarded. Her wish seemed harmless enough. He found himself floating outside the window of a young girl's room, where a small child was sitting on a pink bed, holding onto her pillow. His body again worked of its own volition, Desiree's power core revving up. He realized just how crazy it would be for the room to fill with living, furry animals. So he consciously thought over the wording of the wish and twisted its interpretation just enough so that instead of real bunnies, the girl was surrounded by stuffed ones.

She gasped in glee and squealed as multi-colored rabbits fell from the ceiling to fill her floor. "Yes!" she yelled.

Danny almost smiled, his mind latching onto the girl's happiness in a desperate attempt to forget the fallout of the previous wish he'd had to grant.

He looked away from the girl's room and realized he was right in the heart of Amity Park now.

Then the winds rushed again.

I want a million dollars, mused a miserable, glum woman.

Now he was in the business district of Amity Park.

The wishes came like a barrage of bullets.

I wish someone else would make dinner—I wish people would notice me for once—I wish this damn printer worked—I wish I had a car that wouldn't freakin' break down all the time.

He nearly cried in frustration, unable to move beyond the borders of Amity Park. Wishes kept coming in and forcing him to new homes and complexes, confronting new people in a twisting rage and fear that he could not bend from their basic wishes.

Maybe he would be stuck in some awful purgatory, in which his every move was dependent on someone else. He could feel Desiree's power core glow a bit more with the influx of wishes, but her power only served to make the next wishes more permanent, more influential. Most of the wishes, he didn't even know how he could twist to avoid granting them.

He swallowed hard. At this rate, he'd never make it to Yale in time. Jazz was too far away for him to make it there before another wish. He'd have to make a run for the nearest house, to the nearest person he could hope to convince to make a wish.

As he looked around at Amity Park, he realized what he would have to do with impending dread. Tucker lived closer to Elmerton. The closest person in Amity Park was, in fact, Sam.

"Shit," he breathed, almost fearfully. The thought of her sent some kind of weird butterflies fluttering in his stomach with nausea and heartache. Oh, she was going to kill him. She would not want to see him at all, especially not after their last fight.

She probably hated him now—maybe with good reason.

But he'd do what he had to do if it meant setting everything right. And escaping from the insanity of Desiree's existence.


To most of the people who lived in America, Danny Phantom was known as a very private, small-town superhero. He was inherently difficult to catch on camera and had declined nearly every photo shoot and interview he had ever been offered. So imagine Giovanni Di Vita's surprise when he looked up and saw Danny Phantom floating in his photo studio.

"Hello," the ghost boy waved, flashing bright, white teeth with a careless smile. "Are you busy?"

Giovanni Di Vita was an older Italian photographer who had immigrated to Germany at an early age. He was the resident golden photographer for every major fashion industry, and had been for many years. His accent was still thick and heavy, much like his beard.

"Danny Vantom," he said, startled. He lowered his camera in shock. The lingerie-clad models he was photographing broke out of their positions to stare as well. "Vat are you doing here?"

Phantom's body floated on its stomach several feet off the ground, looking down at Giovanni with deep interest. "I lost your card," Desiree said, Danny's voice light and careless. "I've been meaning to call you back, so I thought I'd just fly over." Desiree raised her chin to the white sheets that lined the room. "Got time to squeeze me in?"

The photographer gaped at Danny. "I…But—" He back trailed, gray eyes wide. "Of course! Yes. Yes, I do." He snapped his fingers. "For you, I have all the time in the world."

Giovanni waved the models off. "Ve vill finish this later," he told them. The models nodded and eyed Phantom's body with raised, sculpted brows. They sauntered out from behind the wall of standing cameras, shooting bedroom smiles.

Desiree soaked in the attention in amusement, raising an eyebrow of her own with feigned disinterest. It made the models eye Danny even harder.

Giovanni was pacing about in great shock and excitement, looking at his equipment to ensure it was all functioning properly. "You…vant me to photograph you now, huh?"

Desiree nodded, preening gloved fingers through Danny's soft, white hair. "But only you," she said. "Nothing but the best."

"Ov course, ov course." Giovanni turned around, and the entire room erupted into chaos. "I need my special camera!" he called. Assistants poured from doorways. "And ze black backgrounds! Get me more back lighting! For ze love of god, people, move it! Ve are photographing Danny Vantom!"


Half an hour later, Giovanni's camera snapped as he weaved around the chair that Desiree was sitting backwards on. She had carelessly slung Danny's body across it in a typical, disaffected display, tracking Giovanni with her eyes. "Good," Giovanni praised, "Good! For someone who avoids cameras, you know how to vork angles! You are a natural at this."

Danny's face shined in the snapping lights with a bright smile. "Secret power," she said.

The people around the room chuckled lightly, sitting back and watching in interest. Their eyes viewed Phantom with a pleasant respect.

Desiree smirked as she proper her head up with her hand. This was all too easy. And so, so amusing. The humans worshipped Phantom's body without demanding more than she was willing to give of it.

How nice.

Instead of grabby and possessive looks, Phantom received jealousy and admiration. No one could touch him.

But as much as she enjoyed it for herself, Desiree realized that her whole purpose for coming to Giovanni was not to simply reiterate Phantom's 'respectable' status quo. She frowned suddenly, her bottom lip pouting out. She'd have to try harder to destroy his sense of security. So, without any warning, she began to shrug out of the jumpsuit, revealing Danny's bare, broad shoulders and toned stomach, down to the sharp muscles that defined his waist.

The camera snapped faster, Giovanni's eyes widening not so much in surprise, but in intrigue.

Desiree smirked, crossing Danny's heavy arms over the wrought-iron bar of the chair. She'd done far, far worse things in her time as a harem girl. But it was a good start for Danny Phantom. Poor, self-conscious Danny Fenton would bear the brunt of human media for quite some time—all the cameras and noisy reporters and wild girls mindlessly attempting to tear his clothes off.

Oh, yes. By the time he got his own body back, the ghost boy wasn't going to just die from attention overload; he was going to suffer under the eyes of a population that would haunt him every waking minute. He was going to understand what it meant to be an object if it was the last thing Desiree did.

She had to obey the conditions of the wish, after all.

"I am surprised," said Giovanni as he snapped pictures. "I vas thinking you told me months ago zat you did not vant to become some media magnet. Zat you vanted to avoid all ze trouble vith paparazzi."

Desiree smiled, grinning Danny's white teeth shamelessly. "I changed my mind." She leaned forward, setting her chin on her arms. "No one remembers me anymore. Make me famous again. Something scandalous."

Giovanni stared at him in appreciation. "Do you vant to make any…particular statements?"

"I just want some attention," Desiree shrugged. "And some extra cash."

The photographer began to eye Danny, noting how well the ghost had toned in the last three years. The boy's broad shoulders caught the light just perfectly to accentuate his masculine angles. He was quite symmetrically attractive to the eye, and Giovanni did not question his good fortune. His own popularity would skyrocket as the only photographer with permission to photograph the Danny Phantom.

He declared, "Boy, after ve are done, your name vill sing from ze lips of every girl in America. Zey will scramble for your image!"

The ghost boy seemed pleased with this idea. "I like that," his tenor voice rang in satisfaction. "More than anything."

Giovanni hesitated with an idea. "…And I know zat you vant attention, so…how do you feel about losing those ridiculous, outdated jumpsuit pants and going 'au naturale?'"

Desiree quirked a white eyebrow in appreciation. "Whatever you wish."

And with a careless shrug, she unzipped the jumpsuit pants and shrugged out of them, baring Danny's entire body to the eye of Giovanni's camera.


A/N: If you have time, please leave a review with your thoughts. I didn't receive much feedback last chapter, so please let me know if there's anything you'd like to see, or if you've got any concerns! Thanks!