Slayer Anderson
Marvel Phantom Chapter 4
A Danny Phantom/Marvel 'Verse Crossover
04/22/2013
Chapter IV – Tactical Retreat
Danny had to admit that he was much more...at peace with himself, as he walked back to the campsite. He still wasn't exactly comfortable with himself, but at least he wasn't afraid of his 'other half,' which was a vast improvement. He'd even moved past that instinctive blaze of fear which threatened to overwhelm him at the thought of his spectral physiology. The nervous anxiety which had persisted after that faithful encounter with the portal that night had all but dissipated, leaving him feeling lighter and calmer than he had in almost a week.
He felt...
Danny chuckled lowly.
Normal.
He sighed as he stepped back into the campground, his lungs feeling deeply with air. Just because he didn't breath when he was a ghost didn't mean he liked the fact, and returning to his human form did give him a certain amount of relief.
Granted, that relief faded quickly when he saw another vehicle pulled up opposite the Ghost Assault Vehicle. It was a sleek car that looked fairly new and slightly altered, but all the better for it. A deep maroon color, the...convertible? As Danny looked closer, he nodded. Yes, the convertible had the feel of a 'supped up' muscle car, but retained its streamlined design. Two figures were already stepping out of the car, a man and woman. The woman waved enthusiastically to his parents, who greeted her with surprised, but genuine expressions of pleasure.
A bit of the worry he'd been feeling eased at that.
"Mom, Dad!" Danny yelled, jogging up to his parents, edging away from the welcome, but unknown strangers. "What's up?"
'Well,' Danny considered, 'at least it that was more polite than 'who are they?' Way to go, I'm learning tact!'
"Danny!" Maddie cried, waving as she started towards the GAV, "Go keep your father under control...you know how he gets when excited. I'll be back out in a few minutes."
"Dann-o," Jack enthused, grinning. "Glad to see you back, son. Your sister's in the GAV, taking a shower, dinner should be ready in a few. And, look, we're gonna' have guests! This is Harrie Chin!"
The woman winced, her friend looking like he was hiding a smile.
"And her boyfriend, Larry Johnson."
"Sup?" The man asked, grinning as he flicked a salute with two fingers. Whereas 'Harrie Chin' (and, yes, he knew exactly what his father had done with that nickname) was dressed in a casual-professional that looked neat, but relaxed...her boyfriend was far more casual, decked out in jeans, sandals, a clean, but untucked T-shirt, and a black canvas vest that was festooned with ktichy buttons and various other odds-and-ends. Even his hair, cut short and spiked, with a five o'clock shadow visible in this dim light, marked him as a 'slacker'...as his teacher's would say at least.
Granted, they'd used the same word against him and he was standing in the middle of the woods in a full-body jumpsuit. 'So, yeah...I'm pretty sure I don't have room to talk,' Danny thought with a wry grin.
Danny shrugged, almost immediately warming to the guy.
"Cool duds," Larry commented, eying the jumpsuit curiously.
Danny did his best not to blush as Jack grinned again, "Finally, someone who can appreciate good lab fashion! This guys a keeper, Harrie!"
The Asian woman blushed furiously at the comment, her boyfriend now trying very hard to hide his blooming grin. "Hear that, Harrie, I'm a keeper...and how come you never told me about your nickname?"
"Quiet, you," Harriet snapped, her eyes glinting dangerously.
"Dinner!" Maddie shouted from inside the GAV as both she and Jazz came out, his sister's hair wet, but otherwise looking much the same. "Harriet, Larry, won't you join us? I'm afraid it's a fairly simple dish, just a vegetable casserole, some biscuits, and some grilled chicken, but we have plenty to share and it'd be nice to catch up. What are the chances we'd meet out here?"
"Yeah," Jazz muttered so that only Danny could hear, "What are the chances that one of our parents old friends would show up in the middle of nowhere right behind us?"
Danny opened his mouth to respond, but his breath caught as he remembered the sarcastic comment he'd made earlier. Frowning, he had to consider that the odds were pretty long...
"Sure," Harriet smiled, "We'd love to stay for dinner."
"Grub's always good," Larry put in his two cents. "Although I'd love to sneak a look at what's under the hood of that monster, if you don't mind?"
So said, the man pointed a thumb over to where the GAV sat, a canopy strung out over a set of folding chairs and table, a roaring fire only a few feet away. Jack grinned even wider, worrying Danny that his face would split in two. Even Maddie's smile cracked a bit wider at the implied compliment.
"Sure, Lar," Jack cried, shortening the nickname to a single syllable and pronouncing it so that it rhymed with 'hair.' The man cringed slightly, but Harriet looked vindicated. "Always nice to meet a guy who knows his motors."
"Don't you mean engine?" Larry asked, surprised, "Don't tell me it's all electrical."
"We have a backup diesel engine that we've modified to run on starch oils, but the primary system is all electrical, yes," Maddie nodded, coming back out of the GAV with a large foil container that steamed hot. Vanishing back into the interior, Jack took over the explanation.
"Yep, the Fenton Ghost Assault Vehicle is completely green," Jack replied proudly. "Solar panels, low-heat bulbs and LED's, this baby's got it all."
"Ghost Assault Vehicle," Harriet repeated, honing in on the juiciest piece of Jack's statement. "Are you planning fighting a lot of ghosts, Jack? I've seen a few of the news reports, any truth to them?"
"Well," Jack considered, "Maddie and I like to be prepared. The GAV is something we built back before we had Danny and Jazz. You remember how Mads and I used to go on those big cross-country trips? Well, we wanted a bit more fortification on our ride after we ran into Azzy."
"Azzy?" Larry asked, looking up briefly from where he was admiring the wheel wells and the exposed suspension.
"Jack, you could get his name right, at least," Maddie chastised gently. "He did vow eternal revenge against us, after all. We should be polite."
"Aw, but Mads, his name's really weird," Jack defended. "Wasn't it something like Azrael or Azbeum or something?"
"Azazel," Maddie replied pointed as she finished setting the table. "Alright, dinner is served, let's sit down. I'm afraid we only have soda and water..."
"That's fine," Harriet replied. "So who is this...Azazel?" Her tongue almost tripped on the unfamiliar name, "And what's this about 'eternal revenge?'"
"His words, not mine," Maddie explained.
"He was this weird demony guy we fought one time in Mexico," Jack summarized. "There was this urn and an inter-dimensional vortex and an army of creepy furry things with horns and tails...but no ghosts."
Danny and Jazz kept eating, having been told the epic tale of the battle between good and evil as a bedtime story. The urn itself, which had facilitated the near-invasion of earth by demonic forces, sat in the Fenton's entryway, having been painted a robin's egg blue by Maddie and was even now holding a bundle of flowers she'd bought the week prior.
Their dinner guests...weren't as familiar with the story.
Larry blinked, his mind attempting to get a foothold on the short, deranged, ramble that had come out of Jack Fenton's mouth.
"Demons..." Harriet replied, doing her best not to cackle with glee. 'Just ask them questions, let the cameras do the rest, Harrie!' "You can't seriously expect me to believe you two fought an army of demons, can you Jack? I mean, do you have any proof?"
Jazz's eyes narrowed, something about the woman seemed familiar as she started asking those questions...something...
"Well, the urn's not here, but..." Jack shrugged, chewing thoughtfully on a carrot. "Hey Mads, didn't we have any ham or fudge to go with dinner?"
"Jack Fenton," Maddie sighed, "You've been snacking on ham and fudge during the entire trip. I am still amazed by your bottomless pit of a stomach, but I'm not going to see your cholesterol rise any higher than it already has, remember what the doctor said."
Jack whimpered like a kicked puppy.
"Maybe you can fave a cookie for desert if you clear your plate," Maddie granted.
"Yes," Jack cried, then turned back to Harriet and Larry. "Well...hey Maddie, did you bring the scrapbooks?"
Danny and Jazz stiffened, their eyes widening.
"Yes," Maddie replied, then brightened. "Oh, that's right, Harriet, you never saw Danny and Jazz back when they were kids. For the life of me, I can't figure out why we grew apart."
Sneaking a glance to the jolly orange giant, who was building a miniature ghost-fortress out of his remaining casserole, she managed a strained, "Neither can I...though I would love to see some of the pictures of what Jack was talking about, if you have them?"
"Mom, she probably only wants to see the ones about the weird things you've met over the years," Jazz interjected as their mother stood up, trying to cover the pleading in her voice.
"Yeah, I mean, you can save those for after dinner, when we can appreciate them, right?" Danny asked, plastering a rictus of a grin on his face.
"I suppose," Maddie started, "but..."
"They're right Maddie," Harriet interceded. "We can look over the photo albums later, but if it's not too much trouble, I would like to see these 'demons' Jack keeps talking about. It just sounds so exciting." 'Harriet, girl, you should get an Emmy for this,' the Asian reporter thought devilishly, 'Still, it's best to leave the kids out of this. They don't deserve to have their embarrassing baby pictures on national news just because their father's an idiot. This is just between me and Jack.'
"Here they are!" Maddie grinned, leaping out of the GAV with two large albums in her arms after a few short minutes of digging. Passing one to her friend, she flipped the pages open to reveal a much younger Jack and Madeline Fenton, probably just out of college, if that, in front of a picturesque desert landscape.
Below that were several pictures of the two stomping through jungle terrain. "We set the external cameras on the original Ghost Assault Vehicle to motion-sensitive at one-minute intervals. Occasionally, Jack and I had to get out and cut a path through some of the overgrown roads."
"Yep," Jack nodded, "Oaxaca can get a little overgrown once you get into the back country. Let's see," large man hummed in thought, "I think we were in...Istmo? Or was it Sierra Norte? I think things get a little fuzzy during the week I had malaria."
"Why were you two in Mexico, anyway?" Larry couldn't keep himself from asking.
"Oh," Jazz interjected. "They were looking for a haunted temple, weren't you? Wasn't it a lost Aztec pyramid or something?"
"That's right honey," Maddie nodded, smiling. "Now, let's see...we had been informed about a missing expedition from a Spanish museum which had been consumed by evil spirits...though it turns out they were talking about demons and not ghosts."
"Very disappointing," Jack concurred, shaking his head sadly as he turned the page.
Harriet and Larry couldn't restrain the startled cries that leaped from their at the images of the man-shaped thing that stood in an giant...doorway like ring of energy. Around the altar of a smoking pit, red-furred things of varying sizes, all posed around a large piece of pottery decorated with vague and unclear designs.
Other pictures displayed the...creatures leaping at the GAV, the pictures oddly angled, but displaying the things well enough. "We ended up having to drive the GAV right through them and crashed into the temple itself."
"And then Azzy started yelling about how we wouldn't defeat him and some other stuff," Jack shrugged. "Couldn't get a word in edge-wise with that guy, but it turned out that the whole thing was some kind of ritual to summon his army back to earth...or something."
Harriet twitched, staring at the blasphemously handsome face which bore red skin and black hair, mockingly trimmed to look like a civilized human being. Instead, the armor and blood-stained weapons he held as he strained against the doorway that hung in mid-air only seemed to detract from his affected humanity, making him look like a vicious animal.
Jack and Maddie continued the story as their children finished up dinner.
Completely obvious, the two Fentons explained some of their past exploits as the camera set in Harriet's purse recorded with aid from the microphone in her blouse...which was recording a news feed which was being transmitted to the satellite link-up back in their vehicle, to the major news station which Harriet Chin worked for, and on to national television...
Marvel Phantom
...or it would have, if S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't watching.
In another world, another time, another place...a billionaire genius philanthropist playboy would have called the man's expression 'constipated,' or, if he was feeling particularly impudent and childish, 'grumpy' would have worked as well. The analysts sitting at the table, though, had none of the gall to insult the terrifying, powerful, and pissed-off man.
Brigadier-General Nick Fury, eye patch and all, looked at the assembled men and women with a thunderous expression on his face.
A lesser man would have been merely 'angry.'
Nick Fury did not do 'angry,' he moved straight to 'wrathful.'
And right now? He was in a mood the put even 'wrathful' to shame and left it cowering in the corner, weeping. Carefully and deliberately, Gen. Fury drew his sidearm, causing the assemblage to tense. With practiced motions the dark-skinned man checked that the weapon was loaded, a cartridge in the chamber, before setting the firearm on the table.
"Give me one good reason to not shoot all of you, right now."
The North American S.H.I.E.L.D Media Analysis and Threat Assessment Division swallowed collectively. As they remained quiet, Fury took the opportunity to continue, "because, this is not failure. When we fail, people die...and you all know that. I shouldn't have to explain it to you. This...situation which we find ourselves in is such a catastrophic clusterfuck that there does not exist a word in any language, let alone English, to describe it."
A neatly dressed man, slightly balding, took his cue and pressed a button. The screen behind Fury was suddenly ablaze with imagery.
"We have rioting in seven major American cities and twenty minor ones. European nations are facing a similar state. Every major first world nation is currently experiencing a run on grocery stores, gun stores, and emergency supply outlets. Major religious crises around the globe have flared up. O.P.E.C. is threatening long-established trade agreements. We have evidence that Section 13 is facing a large-scale mobilization for the first time in over thirty years. Do I need to go on or have I adequately described the state of the world for you?"
Another long silence.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. is a peace-keeping force. To do this, ladies and gentlemen, we observe trends in science, technology, industry, society, the news outlets, religion, etc..." Fury paused. "We do this in case someone discovers a cheep way to create artificial nuclear reactor fuel in their attic. Or create a nano-machine swarm in an effort to cure cancer. Or redefine the concept of travel by publicizing cheap and efficient hover technology."
A room-wide wince.
"Or, just for instance, punches a whole into another dimension in their basement and calls a press conference about it." Another, harsher wince, almost a cringe. "We do this because such inventions have a large propensity to be used to disrupt the stability of the world."
Fury's glare sharpened, becoming almost murderous in its intensity.
"But," He said slowly. "I don't need to tell you this. Because this is your job."
He reached down to tap the firearm with a single finger.
"So, the question becomes...how did you fuck it up?"
A particularly brave, or stupid, man at the front adjusted his glasses and coughed once. "If I may, sir?"
"By all means," Fury nodded, his expression still that of a terrifyingly reasonable, calm, and intent man.
"The Fentons are...well, to put it bluntly, sir, they are our 'Nightmare Scenario.'" He explained. "Jack Fenton has been on a watch list since he was a child, mainly due to his father. His files take up gigabytes worth of space with false alarms and such. As intelligent as the Fentons are...they are also very stupid."
"Stupid," Fury repeated, in a prompting tone.
"Yes sir," The analyst replied. "They have demonstrated an incredible scientific myopia, focusing on furthering their paranormal research above and beyond any other field of study. We've know for years that they've developed some amazing technology, but other than the patents, they've made no move to profit from any of their inventions."
"And this 'press conference' that they held? It wasn't flagged?" Fury asked, curious.
"No sir," The analyst stated bluntly. "They specifically mentioned, and I quote, 'an important, world-changing, ghost-related discovery.' This would be the seventeenth such conference they've called. The first ten triggered flagged alerts and we dispatched a watchdog team as per regulation, but due to urging by the Central Committee to cut our operations budget, the Fentons and other such 'threats' were demoted to Level Green pending a reassessment every five years."
Fury nodded, still tapping the pistol as he submerged deep in thought.
"And this last debacle?" Fury asked finally.
"We caught the signal a few seconds in. Facial recognition picked out Jack and Madeline Fenton. After rerouting the signal, we got satellite imaging on the job and matched the identity of the other person to one Harriet Chin, a friend of theirs in college, who is now a reporter. After establishing that this was, in fact, an undercover interview, we cut the signal fully and recorded a full copy of it."
"Good," Fury nodded. "And what about this 'ghost' business?"
"We contacted R&D, Experimental Sciences, and a few other more...esoteric branches of Shield's research. They dug out some of the Fenton's old papers on the subject and, though they haven't published anything in six or seven years, their theories are largely sound. We're going to have to come down on the side that, although these people are incredibly eccentric, they're probably right."
Fury sighed, "Do we have a strategy, yet? Can we discredit them? Some way to bury this?"
"Unlikely," The man replied. The Fentons are coming off, at least in the preliminary responses we're looking at in Twitter, Facebook, and other social media, coming off as very 'relatable' and 'down to earth.' Unfortunately, it looks like the fickle force of mass media has responded in their favor. Some fringe groups are citing their previous failures, but it doesn't help that the Fentons have publicly apologized for any failures or mistakes they've made."
"I think this secret is out, sir," The balding man near the screen supplied.
"It better be the last one," Fury growled, then looked up to the group in the room. "It had better fucking be the last one I ever have to deal with. This is as bad as when we had to acknowledge H.Y.D.R.A. publicly as a terrorist group back in the seventies."
This time the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. sighed, a bone-deep weariness creeping into his frame. "Coulson? I want a full briefing on my desk about this whole fiasco on my desk in six hours. It's past time when we finished putting out these fires and started acting proactively. Dig up anything we have on this Azazel character and attach it. Then I want you and whoever is the local Fenton expert on a chartered flight to wherever that RV is headed. You are to meet with the Fentons and inform them that they are under a press blackout until further notice. Wherever they're going? Keep them there for...however long it takes us to deal with this mess."
Phil Coulson nodded, then glanced at his PDA, "Yes sir, although I might add that someone from the Vatican is on line three. Apparently they're calling in regards to a person connected with the attempted kidnapping of the Fenton's son. He's one of their rogues."
Fury actually winced at that. "And now we have a Vatican S.O.E. Agent running around near these kooks...what next?"
Coulson refrained from smiling, "They're also sending an agent from Section 4, Peter to meet with the Fentons. The matter of this 'Ghost Portal' has their Spiritual Invocation Division both very excited and very, very worried."
"Great," Fury growled.
Marvel Phantom
"Yes?" Harriet Chin asked with a dead tone, her eye still twitching spasmodically as she tapped the touchscreen of her phone, silencing the ringing.
'Demons are real,' The thought echoed in her mind, consuming her thoughts.
Those same viral thoughts stopped abruptly as the voice on the other end of the line spoke. Her eyes widened, a fire which had been smoldering within them, almost extinguished, roared to life again. There was a faint buzzing in her ears as the voice, some no-name techie, explained the situation fully.
"What?!" She roared, almost startling Larry into driving off the road.
As he corrected the course, she listened still more intently, ending the conversation with an incoherent growl that might have been mistaken for 'good bye.' Her fingers curled around the smartphone in her grasp, threatening to crush it as her willpower fought against the nearly-overwhelming rage within her.
"I can't-I actually believed them!" Harriet shouted, nearly frothing at the mouth.
"Geez, Harrie, warn a guy next time," Larry cried back as he pulled to the side of the highway. "What the hell was that all about?"
"All of that shit!" Harriet growled, then narrowed her eyes, "And don't call me Harrie. Jack Fenton just played us for fools!"
"Huh?" Larry blinked, startled, "I don't really getcha, babe, everything seemed pretty legit to me. Photos, story, the whole deal."
"That was the studio on the phone!" Harriet yelled, slamming her hand onto the dashboard of the car. "Guess what? That satellite signal that you said would punch through a hurricane the size of Katrina couldn't knock out? Yeah, well the studio couldn't get a bit of reception. They said some kind of interference wiped the signal out, audio and video!"
Larry blinked, taken aback by the information. Staring off into the distance, he frowned thoughtfully. "Huh...weird."
"Weird? Weird?! Is that all you can say?" Harriet roared in disbelief, spittle flying from her mouth as she grabbed her cameraman by his shirt.
"Yeah?" Larry admitted in a confused tone.
Harriet dropped back into her seat, a puppet with its strings cut. "God save me from fools," she muttered derisively.
"Whaddya mean?" Larry asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.
"It's obvious! The Fentons made up that entire piece of crap story! They were ready for someone to track them down. The entire thing was a bullshit distraction to keep us from asking questions about ghosts and we fell for it. Hook. Line. And. Sinker."
Larry's brows furrowed, "Boss, I don't think-"
"And what galls me is those pictures. I bet they laughed themselves drunk when they made those up on photoshop!" Harriet growled. "Demons! Ghosts! What's next? Dinosaurs? Superheroes? Ooh, ooh, I know! Aliens!" Her tone had turned mocking by the end, contrasting with the foul and nasty scowl on her face.
"Boss," Larry tried again, "We don't know for sure the Fentons busted the signal. I mean, it would have taken some serious hardware, like military-strength, to do something like that. What if it was, like, cosmic rays or a solar flare or something?"
"Cosmic rays?" Harriet asked in a dull tone. "How about you let me do the thinking Larry? I'm not even sure you know what those words even mean. Besides, what do you think they had in that massive RV-thing, anyway? Extra jumpsuits?"
Larry frowned, still ready to argue but not seeing much point in it.
He knew an exercise in futility when he saw one, after all.
He'd been married.
"Okay," he shrugged, "So what now, boss?"
Harriet quieted, then resolved. "We wait. They have to pass this way if they want to get out of here in the morning. Pull past that copse of trees there and we'll spend the night here."
"Oh," Larry sighed, and here he'd been hoping to see a little action tonight.
"And you're in the back as soon as we stop, buster," Harriet all but growled. "I've got some stress to work off."
"Yes mam," Larry replied stoically, doing his best to hide his grin.
Marvel Phantom
Danny yawned expansively, being careful to sit up slowly in the GAV bunk he'd slept in. Of course, it was either that or tents, and between the AC or the threat of monsters (some of which he had to believe were real, now, after what he'd seen) in the woods, both he and Jazz had opted to curl up in the fold-out double-bunk. His older sister, of course, took top bunk, as always. Still, that tradition meant he'd learned not to sit up quickly, lest he slam his head into the hard plastic of Jazz's sleeping spot.
'...although, it had been hilarious when I hit my head that one time and the shock had startled Jazz into falling out of bed,' Danny grinned sleepily, inwardly glad just to have woken up solid, opaque, and earthbound.
Although the thought of 'earthbound' did remind him of a few...possibilities.
'Maybe after I get over panic attacks every time I...transform,' Danny decided quickly. While the thought of, well...flying was extremely enticing, he was also very aware of what could happen while he was high up in the sky. And, of course, if he didn't need to breath...his pulse quickened at the thought of an empty night sky above him, launching his form up and up and up...
"I might not need to wait on NASA," Danny murmured aloud. 'Maybe I should try flying sooner, rather than later. I mean, last time might have been a fluke or something. You know, just to make sure that I actually can.'
"What was that honey?" Maddie asked as she passed the bunk.
"Nothing mom," Danny shrugged, throwing off the sudden spike of giddiness. "Just still kind of asleep."
"That's okay Danny," Maddie smiled. "You can go ahead and get some more sleep if you'd like. Jack's been driving for a few hours now and you sister isn't even up yet."
A groggy, "I'm awake," came from the upper bunk. Granted, it sounded closer to "immawaek."
"My mistake," Maddie smiled gently.
"Why'd you let us sleep in?" Danny asked, stretching. "When we go camping, we usually help you and dad break camp in the mornings."
"Well, Jack and I thought we'd put you kids through enough recently. Even if we can only give you a few late mornings to sleep in as a reward for putting up with us, we wanted to cut you a bit of slack considering how weird things are right now," Maddie explained softly, then on a more upbeat tone, added. "And, at any rate, Jack wanted you to be well rested when we meet your grandfather tonight."
Danny thought about arguing, but he really had been pretty beat yesterday, after the long drive and his little 'experiment,' and everything. Even though he didn't want his parents thinking this mess was their fault (when it was really his, after all), he settled for a subdued, "Thanks."
A fuzzy-headed, pajama-clad Jazz Fenton chose that moment to slide off the top bunk, cringing as her bare feet hit the cold plastic floor of the GAV. Squeaking, she slid back into Danny's bunk, rubbing at her chilled feet. Shaking her mussed hair, she gave a slightly more alert, "Okay, now I'm awake."
Which was subsequently ruined by a monstrous yawn issuing forth from her mouth.
Danny, his own form clad in boxers and an undershirt, pulled his blanket closer as Jazz tried to snatch a bit of it to cover her toes. "Get your own blanket, Jazz."
"But its cooold," she whimpered childishly, tugging at the cloth.
Maddie bit her lip, trying hard not to laugh as the normally-mature girl turned back into the somewhat-immature daughter she'd known for over a dozen years prior. There had been a reason why Jazz and Jack had gone off to do SCIENCE while she and Danny watched horror movies and it had as much to do with the fact that Jazz liked to learn as with the fact that she was also a 'daddy's girl' back then.
Which, when you took into account Jack's silliness, mean that more than a little had rubbed off. It did her heart good to see that Jazz's fight to grow up as quickly as possible hadn't snuffed that out. Jazz had always been the more academically inclined of the two,which had probably lead to some of that, though Danny was surprisingly sharp when he wanted to be. Taking pity on her daughter, she pulled both the pillow and blanket from the upper bunk and passed them to the teenage girl.
Jazz made a noise which might have been construed as 'thank you,' if one was fluent in speaking through pillow stuffing, and Maddie moved off, back up to the front of the vehicle. "You kids take your time getting up, we've got about another ten hours. We should get into Salem by sundown."
"Cool," both Danny and Jazz replied in their own dialects of teenage slang.
As Danny relaxed back onto the bunk, curled slightly tighter to give his sister a bit more space, the silence between the two stretched to become slightly uncomfortable. Finally, ceding to the inevitable, Danny asked, quietly so their parents wouldn't overhear, "Why are you acting like this?"
"Acting like what?" Jazz asked, equally quiet as she sat up slightly, leaning her head against the opposite corner of the bunk, feeling the soothing cool metal on her forehead. An errant thought noticed how weird it was that cold could surprise her so badly, but feel so good when she expected it.
"You know, like you used to," Danny shrugged uncomfortably. "You bugged me all summer about my reading list and keeping my grades up when I get to high school and now you haven't mentioned anything like that in nearly a week. What gives?"
Jazz took so long in answering, that Danny almost thought she wasn't going to reply at all. Finally, Jazz moved a bit, hugging her legs to her chest and looking as vulnerable as Danny had seen her in a long time, her eyes even suspiciously wet. "Danny, I hate high school."
"Yeah, so?" Danny asked, confused.
"No Danny," Jazz replied, something dark in her eyes, "I really, really hate high school. I hate the teachers, I hate the students, I hate the building, Danny."
"Oh," Danny said, shocked at the...loathing in his sister's voice.
"They're horrible people," Jazz spat. "Loud, obnoxious, vain, arrogant, shallow little trolls that can't show an ounce of compassion." Now, tears were falling freely from her eyes. "I hate them so much, Danny..."
His sister coughed up a strangled, quiet wail that stabbed at Danny's heart, the boy surging forward and, unthinkingly, grabbed Jazz in a tight hug. Jazz sobbed softly, grasping onto her brother like a rope thrown to a drowning woman. She was quietly mumbling, "I'm sorry," over and over, like some kind of mantra.
In a wet, painful voice, Jazz explained the torments of Casper High.
Spitballs had been a daily occurrence, befouling her clothes and staining her notes. Girls had bullied her, locking her in bathroom stalls, defacing her locker, stealing her gym clothes, and more. The jocks had made near-continuous passes at her, thinking her 'easy,' and various teachers had turned blind eyes to the treatment she'd endured, until she'd found a way to secure their protection. In the month after she'd started high school and for the rest of the year, she'd been a model student...no, even more than that. She'd set records for every test she'd taken, every exam they'd put before her had been passed with a hundred percent or better.
National level spelling achievements, rallies for every subject in school including some she hadn't even taken yet, academic prizes and scholastic honors from every corner. They'd made her valuable, untouchable even by the jocks. She was too important to be taunted and tormented then, given that she had her name on everything that wasn't football related in the awards cabinet.
But that didn't mean they had to like her.
That didn't mean she wasn't a Fenton.
It just turned her into an easy source for test answers, a lab partner that did all the work, or a study buddy that you could copy off of. And, true to form, teachers turned blind eyes towards the behavior. She was allowed to excel, true, and gain a measure of protection, but only at the cost of becoming an exploitable resource.
And all the while, her brother saw more than he needed to. As foreign as emotions like hate and anger and rage were to Danny, he could recognize them well enough. Slowly, like an unstoppable glacier, a bleak storm of fury unfurled, because...
...because, Jazz was hurt in a real, material way, that he could see, even as mist and shadows stole across his vision. His sister was bright, inside, shining in a way that he couldn't really describe as light, but felt warm and human, but scattered across that warm light were...wounds.
Ugly black things that writhed like living cancers, that he'd never seen before. As Jazz poured her soul out to him, Danny reached out, slowly and carefully, to touch one of those ichor-like spots. As his hand made contact somewhere on her back-
-but not really touching her, instead sliding his grasp in a direction that he hadn't known about, but couldn't only describe as inside-
-and his breath caught. He could still hear Jazz's soft voice, feel her clinging to him, but he was also somewhere else.
'I could see him standing at the end of the hall,' voice that wasn't Danny's own thought in his head. 'Why didn't I just go around the long way? I could have taken the tardy.'
But the boy, the blonde-haired boy in a letterman jacket, that Danny couldn't 'see,' but could describe perfectly, had seen him (or was it her?) and was walking in this direction, now. His blood chilled as he recognized Dash Baxter, an infamous high school bully who had made his life hell for years, taking a particular pleasure in hunting him down even while Danny himself was in middle school.
Nervousness, anxiety, and desperation welled up within the ghost-boy, but they had the tang of foreign emotions, borrowed feelings. 'Why doesn't he just go away? Dash could have any girl in the school, easy, why does he have to look at me?'
Because he did look, she (he?) knew, could feel his eyes on her (him?) during lunch everyday, thankfully the only thing they had in common. Crushing the anxiety, he (she?) settled her face into the cold mask that served as a polite, but distant facade...to protect her. To keep anyone from getting to close, close enough to hurt her.
"Hey, Jazz," he smirked, an arrogant grin sliding over his face, even as his appearance distorted. Danny felt fear and terror steal across his field of vision, swirling up as they tried to overcome the image, make it something monstrous and terrible, something inhuman. Focusing his will in some instinctual way, Danny quelled the emotions and the vision returned to normal.
"Dash," He heard his sister's voice say, even as she was already speaking to him, her tears staining his undershirt. "What do you want?"
It was a blank tone, one devoid of inflection and feeling.
"Just wanted to come check on everyone's favorite brain," He said, obviously trying to be charming. "Hey, me and a couple of the guys were heading up to the lake tomorrow, get ready for the big game on Sunday, ya'know? Why don't you come with?"
"Sorry," He heard his sister's voice say, still in that painfully blank tone of voice, "I have to study. World History test on Monday, Algebra on Tuesday." As she bluntly informed him, Danny's viewpoint tried to move past him, only to have a muscled arm audibly slap the painted cinder block wall, barring her way.
A spike of fear shot through him (her?).
"I think you study too much," Dash offered, his tone sickeningly sweet. "One night out won't hurt." Another hand reached out, touching her right arm firmly.
Sickness, nausea, building in his gut.
"I don't see how your opinion matters," Jazz honestly, coolly.
Something dark, greedy flashing in Dash's eyes, and his touch turned into a grip, tight but not bruising. "Look freak, I'm trying to be nice here. You play ball and I can make things go better around here for you."
Anger, blossoming into hate.
"Ms. Fenton, Mr. Baxter," another voice, this one older and belonging to a bald, overweight teacher, one of the few who might have a shred of decency somewhere inside him. "Both of you, get to class, bell's about to ring."
Mr. Lancer, the teacher, looked towards her-but not at her, never meeting her eyes, shame coloring his expression-and watched as the two teens separated. Dash, turned away from the teacher and eyes bright with dark promise, mouthed, "Later freak."
And, suddenly, Danny was back holding his sister tightly, listening to her soft tears and even softer pleas for forgiveness. Carefully, more so than before, he wrapped his arms around Jazz more tightly, feeling his own throat tighten and eyes moisten. He didn't touch the other wounds...and there were others, many, many more.
Some, almost malignant, cancerous, that Danny to his shame, shied away from.
Something broke inside Danny at that point, something he didn't even know existed.
A cynical person might call it naivete. A kind person might call it faith in humanity.
Regardless of either, it was the tiny unquestioning voice that said people were good, that people were decent. It said something about the durability of such a trait in Danny that it had taken so much to break it, but seeing his sister, the girl who'd played games with him almost everyday when they were young, who always had time for her little brother's (sometimes annoying, admittedly) questions, who had probably made more edible meals for him than both their parents combined when the two adults were tied up in the lab...
Seeing someone like that reduced to a broken shell after a year of cold-blooded torment and turned into someone who didn't smile, who only knew how to use a book to block out the world around her...
"...and when I realized that things would be different for you," Jazz finished in a quiet voice, "I..."
"...hated me," Danny filled in, not blaming his sister one ounce for it, but tightening the hug, now almost bruising, all the same.
"No!" Jazz almost yelled, but caught herself at the last minute, translating it to an especially fierce whisper. The word was punctuated as she pulled away from her brother, slightly, to look him in the eyes. "No...maybe I hated mom and dad, just a little, but not you Danny. I might have...resented you," she winced, pain flashing in her eyes, "but I never hated you. You're my little brother."
"It was never your fault," Jazz finished, collapsing into a ball of sadness and pain curled up against the side of the bunk.
"But I didn't do anything to help," Danny argued, thinking on Dash Baxter's face and how it had brought him so much misery. He honestly didn't care that Dash had turned his school experience into a waking nightmare of near-constant bullying, but...if that person showed up near Jazz again. 'I wonder how hard it would be to kill him,' an alien part of his mind wondered, momentarily scaring him.
Had he really thought that?
Or had it been his...other half?
And wasn't that a chilling thought? That he might not be in complete control of himself. It wasn't something he'd considered before and he shied away from the thought, pushing it to the back of his mind. 'Talk to Jazz now, think about that later, or never...'
"I wouldn't have let you," Jazz admitted as Danny nudged over to sit next to her. They weren't hugging anymore, barely making contact with each other, actually. The intensity of Jazz's pain had faded into a deep ache that Danny could see pulse in time with her heartbeat, but it was...clean, he could tell, like a lanced wound. "I didn't want you to know, Danny. Older siblings are supposed to...strong. They're not supposed to let, to let you get hurt."
It was a weak excuse from someone who had been afraid, and they both knew it.
Of course, Jazz probably didn't know that Danny knew. The youngest Fenton had never been an insightful person, and his sister had no reason to suspect that had changed, but it had. Danny had felt what she had felt, had lived with that fear, however momentarily.
Danny swallowed, his throat tight and couldn't think of a thing to say.
"Promise you won't tell mom and dad...they'd, they'd get angry." Jazz whispered, her hand latching onto Danny's, her voice small and pleading.
"Okay," Danny whispered, "but I want you to tell me, if anything else happens."
"It shouldn't," Jazz rationalized. "We're not going to school in Amity Park anymore...that's why I told you. I wanted, I had to tell someone and...I'm sorry for how I've been acting. I know I've been...cold." Here, the tears started again, slowly, as she laid her head on Danny's shoulder. "I...just want my little brother back."
"I-" Danny choked, his eyes getting glassy. "I never left, Jazz."
Jazz made a noise that was somewhere between a giddy laugh and a heartbreaking sob, burying her face in Danny's shoulder. For a vague and hazy period, the two siblings sat next to each other, Jazz taking comfort in her brother's presence, and Danny trying desperately to think of something to do, something to say, that could fix it.
Eventually, Jazz stirred, sliding out of the spot she'd taken on Danny's bed and hissing as her feet touched the cold plastic floor. "Thanks, Danny...I'm going to go clean up, I must look horrible."
Danny nodded, rallying admirably, "Try not to use up all the hot water, I still want a shower after you."
Jazz flashed him a brilliant smile, basking in the normalcy of her brother's words.
Grinning impishly, she winked, "No promises."
And then she disappeared, cornering the cabinets and stepping into the bathroom. Almost immediately, he could faintly hear the sink start running. Just to be safe, he waited another minute before speaking, apparently to thin air, but actually targeting the bright light he could 'see'...much of the same warmth as was within Jazz, but subtly different and tinged with emotional pain and heartache.
That would have to be his next thing to figure out, he realized, trying to ignore the weirdness of seeing something that wasn't even physically there.
"Hey mom."
A startled gasp and a moment where embarrassment crept his mother's 'light.' And that would be the next thing to work on, he sighed, figuring out how he knew what he could 'see' was his mother.
"D-danny," Maddie stuttered, stepping around the cabinets, where she'd ducked when Jazz had headed to the shower. "How l-long did you know I was there?" She wasn't wearing her goggles and, as such, the redness around her eyes was very visible.
Danny shrugged, embarrassed at seeing so much vulnerability from Jazz first, and now his mother, two people he'd always considered so strong. "Does it matter?"
Maddie frowned, but conceded the point, "I suppose not. I...I don't suppose you'd like to tell me how you were treated at school." Here, her eyes were sharp, glistening with unshed tears, but piercing in a way all mothers' could be.
"Not really," Danny shrugged, somewhat sullenly.
Now Maddie scowled. "Daniel James Fenton, as soon as your sister gets out, your father is going to stop this Ghost Assault Vehicle and we're going to-"
"No," Danny interrupted his mother bluntly, trying to ignore the shivering nervousness at doing so, that any child would feel at standing up to their parent. 'But I have to...I have to."
"No?" Maddie blinked, taken aback by the seriousness in Danny's voice and eyes. A fire lit in her eyes a second later, anger coming to the fore. "Now see here, mister-"
"Mom," Danny said quietly, his tone firm...almost grim. "Jazz doesn't need that."
Of all the things that he could have said, that was perhaps the only one which could stop his mother in her tracks, extinguishing her temper before it could truly get started. Her hand, which has been poised to start gesturing accusingly, dropped limply at her side.
"Jazz doesn't need to be raked over the coals anymore. She just wants to...she just wants it all to go away. Please don't do this." It was soft, pleading, but there was a hint of steel in his voice.
Pain blossomed somewhere in that strange direction again, flashing over Maddie's light in a color he couldn't name, but tasted (tasted, oh god he was going to be sick) of bitter sadness, helpless anger, and a pain like a knife twisting in his gut. "Danny," Maddie said, equally quiet, "I can't just..."
"You have to," Danny urged, desperation now entering his voice even as he hated how it sounded, like a kid trying to play 'grownup' in his dad's suit...or jumpsuit, in this case.
"Danny," Maddie objected half-heartedly. "Jack and I...we do want the best for you, I...I wanted to make sure you knew that, right?" There was something fragile, brittle, in her voice.
"I know," intellectually, at least, Danny did. He knew his parents loved him, but sometimes they...well, they didn't forget exactly, but...things got in the way. "Mom, Jazz and I are-"
He wanted to say 'okay,' but they both knew he'd be lying.
"-we're dealing. I think, if we don't have to go back to Amity, to school or whatever, then...that'll be a lot better, at least." Danny decided, making the statement as neutral as possible.
"You'll go back to that school over my dead body," Maddie growled, suddenly fierce again, thought that flare burned itself out as quickly as it came. "Danny...if I, God, I can't believe I'm saying this, but if I forget about this...if I pretend it never happened, you'll be there for Jazz, won't you?"
Danny opened his mouth to respond, but his mother cut him off this time.
"-and the second something like that happens again, to either of you, you get me or your father and you tell us." It was an order, a command from on high that was laced with a hundred different emotions Danny couldn't even identify, save resignation, which flared the brightest. "Do you understand me?"
"Yes mam," Danny nodded, meeting her gaze evenly.
After another second of consideration, she swept him up in a hug, muttering something along the lines of, "I'm never letting you two out of the house again," before releasing him and retreating back to the front with Jack.
And leaving Danny alone, sitting on the bunk, wallowing in the painful reminders that he wasn't human, at least not entirely. He was something...different, now. Something that had, for a brief moment, considered killing someone else.
And, deep down in that dark cold space between his heart and mind, was still toying with the idea.
Danny swallowed reflexively, fighting down the bile that rose up. He was proud of the fact that he was able to hold it in until Jazz stepped out of the shower, dressed in another Fenton jumpsuit, of which they'd packed several days worth in addition to normal clothes. As soon as she was out, Danny stepped in after trading a teasing barb with his sister, her smile brighter than it had been in months.
Then he flicked on the shower, the rush of water covering the noise he made-
-as he kneeled in front of the toilet and vomited.
'What the hell am I?' He asked himself for the umpteenth time.
Marvel Phantom
Even with the unwelcome revelations of Jazz's treatment at high school, the tone of the trip was surprisingly upbeat considering that the Fentons were essentially fleeing with all due haste away from the media vultures who had driven them from their home. Jazz, as a concession to Danny and their attempts to rebuild their sibling relationship, had taken a turn on the handheld game Danny had brought. After losing a few matches of the latest fighter game, Jazz had proven incredibly adaptive, redeeming her hilariously bad performance earlier.
In exchange, Jazz had conned her brother into a game of travel-sized Scrabble with magnetic pieces, which he lost handedly, even after Jazz reluctantly let him use proper nouns. Surprisingly, Danny actually won the subsequent game of chess, though Jazz took him easily in the majority of the card games they played, primarily due to the fact that Danny had a very poor poker face.
By that point, most of the day had passed and they were nearing their destination.
Salem, given its notoriety as a hotspot for witches, demons, ghosts, and all things spooky, celebrated Halloween early. Even though it was only late August, store displays were beginning to be put out, mannequins dressed in black gowns with point hats set on street corners, and other such decorations had been erected.
Of course, for the Fentons, the displays lacked a certain...authenticity.
"So this is where you grew up, dad?" Jazz asked, forever interested in academic pursuits.
Jack grunted, scowling at the town around him. "Hasn't changed a bit. Still a cesspit of commercialism."
Danny and Jazz's eyes widened, surprised at the bleak tone their normally boisterous father had taken. "I thought," Danny tried carefully, wary of irritating his father, "That you and mom would be happy about this? Doesn't it...raise awareness of the supernatural and paranormal?"
The last bit sounded suspiciously like it had been quoted, probably from something either of their parents had said.
Jack looked about to yell, but swallowed his anger. "Danny, this type of stuff...its not scientific or beneficial, nor does it aid in people's understanding of a normally esoteric subject."
"Jack's right," Maddie nodded. "While we don't mind Halloween that much, such rampant consummerism obfuscates any real insight that people could benefit from. Instead, this type of...carnival atmosphere perpetuates unscientific myth and legend."
"Huh," Danny commented intelligently.
Jack shrugged, throwing off the irritation, "But, yeah, this is the homestead, well...at least until I was sixteen. When I was sixteen, I moved out, got a job, and took out an apartment in Boston. That's actually where I finished up highschool and met Harrie. Your mother and I didn't meet until about two years later when we both got into Wisconsin University with Vl-."
Jack swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable as Maddie shifted in her seat, tense.
"With who dad?" Jazz asked, curious, but wondering at their body language.
"With Harrie!" Jack cried, grinning. "Boy, was she ever surprised when we met up at the student union! She was so excited that she screamed and fainted, couldn't believe it!"
"Uh-huh," Danny nodded doubtfully, but not pressing any further as he traded a telling glance with his sister.
"Ooh kids, look, the Salem Witch Museum!" Maddie gushed suddenly, pointing across the street as they went by.
Jazz and Danny couldn't help themselves, even knowing it was an obvious distraction. Their eyes shot to follow their mother's finger, looking through the cab windows from where they were seated behind their parents. Sure enough, coming up on their left was a looming redstone church that towered above the smaller surrounding buildings. Decorated with the statue of a caped crone in a pointy hat, it left little doubt as to the identity of the building.
But, as was the case so often now, Danny couldn't help but see more...
He had thought Jazz's...trauma was bad enough, but those transparent wounds had nothing on what he was seeing know. His breath caught as he saw the utter...malignancy of the building was beyond anything he'd previously thought existed. He almost couldn't see the building for the twisting darkness hovering in the air around it and clinging to the structure itself. Whispers and death-sweet smells wafted over him, tugging at something that wasn't sight, smell, hearing-
And he felt eyes on him.
Well, not...eyes, exactly, but certainly a twisted and hateful attention from something beyond.
Danny shivered and collapsed back into his seat as the building passed, glad beyond words to be away from the horrid place. Jazz clung slightly to the window, smiling, "Wow, so that was the church, huh? Where it all happened?"
"Nope," Jack grinned. "Never actually been there. That place is a remolded church built in...the early eighteen hundreds?" Jack's eyes grew distant with recall before nodding decisively. "Yeah, about a hundred and twenty or so years after the Witch Trials, but there's a lot of stuff from the witch trails in there. Manuscripts of the proceedings, personal belongings, the hangman's booth, and other stuff. But, no, the actual trials weren't held in Salem, or at least...Salem today."
"Huh?" Jazz asked, now curious.
"Jazz," Maddie smiled, "This area is which was known as 'Salem Town' back in the day, but it's a common misconception that the Witch Trials occurred in a church at all. The witch trials were still trials, after all and, as such, they happened at a courthouse."
"Oh," Jazz blushed, unused to having missed such an obvious detail. "Then where's the courthouse?"
"That's where we're going," Jack sighed, guiding the massive vehicle carefully off the main road and out of the primary city of Salem, passing a sign that said 'Danvers, Massachusetts.' The GAV kept going, traveling thirty minutes from the center of Salem, now in an entirely different world than the urban sprawl they had just left. There was much more greenery, though that was contrasted by the setting sun and stretching shadows, painting the stretches of pasture land and trees in a growing darkness.
The family watched as Jack maneuvered, heading towards a small copse of trees that concealed a side road with 'private drive' warning signs. Heading down the somewhat ominous dirt road, and finally hitting a cutoff, where the road forked into a more well-trodden gravel path and an overgrown...path. Granted, the offshoot looked like it had been cut and occasionally used, but nowhere near enough to turn it even into even a dirt path. Green grass grew along the 'road' and the 'copse of trees' had somehow turned into a much larger forest suddenly. To the right, a sign said:
"Salem National Park and Forestry Nature Reserve – No Trespassing"
The left, grassy path, was tellingly left unmarked.
"Are you sure this is the right way, Jack?" Maddie asked, narrowing her eyes as her husband clicked on the headlights. For some reason the fading light of sunset created an environment wherein all of the Fenton family were intimately aware of the growing darkness and reaching shadows. Danny shivered as they started down the grassy path slowly, Jack driving even more carefully now.
"You betcha," Jack grunted lowly, not smiling, but focused on the path all the same. "Dad...well, the Fenton family, I suppose, owns all this land. A lot of it is leased to the State of Massachusetts as a nature reserve as long as they keep people out and such, but at the center of it...home sweet home."
There was a mocking lilt to his voice.
"Oh," Maddie exhaled, her eyes going wide as the forest parted suddenly. The ten minutes of monotonous travel was suddenly halted by a massive pale gray brick wall some twenty feet high and utterly nondescript. A massive set of ancient-looking wooden doors were set in the front section of the wall, silver script over top it, which was only possible to read because of the twin flickering oil lamps, set on either side of it.
Bloodblossom Court
"That's the outer wall," Jack explained. "Made of something called Silverstone. John Fenton-Nightingale had it shipped over from England; the stuff is supposed to resist spiritual entities. Legend has it an...Alchemist," Jack grimaced on the word, "somewhere back in the family made the stuff and built a castle out of it somewhere in Europe."
"Wow," Danny murmured quietly, his eyes locking onto the glowing spirals set into the material that glowed with a piercing silver light that didn't seem to illuminate anything. He opened his mouth to ask about them, before swallowing the question and shaking his head.
'They probably can't see it,' Danny realized as he tried to push away the extra 'layer' which had become commonplace over the last days. Indeed, after a moment of fighting, he could see the wall rendered back into 'normal' colors and lighting. Still, the effort of holding it back was too much to keep up and his concentration wasn't up to the task.
"So what now?" Danny asked.
"Now...I knock," Jack said, but made no move to step out of the vehicle.
"Jack," Maddie said softly, "We don't have to do this, you know? We can get a hotel or something, take out a loan. We can turn around right now."
"No, Mads," Jack replied, almost instantly, forcing himself to open the door. "We all gotta' face our demons sometime."
In the light of the GAV's high beams, his family watched as Jack Fenton walked up to his ancestoral home. Each step was a battle for him. Part of him, a large part, wanted to do exactly as Maddie had suggested, but another more insistent voice argued against it. He did need to 'face his demons,' as he had said, even if it meant making peace with his old man.
The house, at least, was exactly as he'd remembered it, though perhaps a bit less intimidating, though he hadn't really expected anything to change. Approaching the hidden sconce in the wall, he reached in and pulled the cap off a polished brass speaker. Not unlike the communications systems used in early metal ships and zeppelins, this tube would carry his voice to the telegraph room, which had been the only allowance for the electrical revolution.
"Open up," Jack called down the tube, before he could chicken out. "It's Jack Fenton."
His ultimatum given, Jack recapped the tube and returned to the driver's seat before anyone could respond. Scowling he and his family waited for several minutes until a man dressed in gardener's clothes appeared from within, dragging the massive wooden gates open with sheer muscle power. His task done, the burly individual walked up to Jack's door.
Their eyes met as the slightly older man's weather-worn expression crinkled into a smile. "The young Heir Jack Fenton, as I live and breathe. And the lovely lady, Mrs. Madeline, correct?"
Maddie blushed, while Jack rolled his eyes. "Roy, I was wondering if you were still hanging around. Never did figure out what the old man had on you to keep you on payroll."
"Good to see you too," Roy grinned. "Told ya' afore, Jack, the Lord ain't got nothin' on me. There ain't many a place where you can get full room and board nowadays besides the good money."
"Right, right," Jack waved off, apparently not believing him. "So..." Jack exhaled, not quite sighing, "...the old man's gonna' let us in?"
He was a little surprised, given the circumstances he'd left under.
"Things change, Jackie," Roy said solemnly, despite the childhood nickname. "So, gonna' introduce me to your kids? I got the marriage announcement, but ya' seem to 'ave forgotten your old pal Roy after that."
Jack shrugged uncomfortably, "Things change." The words were soft, apologetic.
"I'm not sore, Jackie," Roy rolled his eyes now, grinning. "Just wanna' meet your sprogs. How bout it? I always knew everything 'afore your paw anyway."
Jack snorted, then pointed to his wife. "Well, to make the introduction formal, this is Maddie." He pointed to Jazz, "And this is Jasmine, though you can call her Jazz or Jazzy-pants, but then she'll flush just like that." Despite herself, his eldest daughter's face was aflame now, though Jack had already moved on. "And Daniel, but you can call him Danny or Dan-o."
Roy leveraged himself up onto the step of the GAV and reached through the driver's side window, shaking Maddie, Jazz, and then Danny's hands, though his eyes widened slightly when he looked at Danny and he almost fell back to the ground.
"Well, I'll be," He whispered lowly. "That takes me back. He's the spittin' image of you Jackie; a thin little string bean that'll probly fall over with a stiff breeze."
If anyone else had said it, Danny might have felt his hackles rise, but there was a warmth about the man, much like his family, though it was less apparent... 'But then, I've only really looked at mom, dad, and Jazz like this. Dad and mom's old friends...I don't think I could see much in them either, just a little bit around the edges...I wonder if I'm getting better or if it only works on people I'm close to?'
Another thing to add to his growing list of 'questions.'
"Well, don't let me hold you up," Roy grinned, stepping back down.
"You wanna' ride in?" Jack offered.
"Nah," Roy brushed the offer off. "Gotta' close the gates, ya'know."
Jack sighed, but nodded, shifting the GAV into gear and moving forwards, through the massive gates. As they passed, Danny felt a...pressure built on him, pushing him back into his seat. Even as he moved to catch his breath or call out, or something...the pressure passed, as though it had never been. Danny swallowed, shaking himself as his eyes flicked back to the massive stone wall.
When he heard his mother and sister gasp, he too turned back, facing forward as he saw-
It was like something out of a fairy tale, Danny thought distantly. It turned out that the outer wall was much larger than he'd thought, encompassing a massive tract of land and a second wall. Between the stone fortification and the tasteful, but smaller brick inner wall, was a stretch of tamed grassy field dotted with statuary, cylindrical blocks with flowing script, and angelic figures holding oil lamps, which provided enough light to draw the startling contrast between light and dark that dreams and nightmares were made of.
The inner wall was red brick, though little of it was actually visible underneath the vast stretches of Bloodblossom vines climbing the structure. All told, the ten foot high wall probably held more of the rare plant than anyone believed existed in the world. Even the inner gate had been built such that the arch was coated with Bloodblossom vines and a low-lying bridge crossed a deep trench that was filled with the thorny plant.
As they crossed the second threshold, Danny's eyes widened, peering into the odd spectrum he'd discovered and saw an an enormous, transparent red-tinged field that arched over the inside of the large compound. It was a thin, wispy barrier that he wouldn't have given another thought to, save for the increasing pressure that had settled on him again.
This time, it wasn't an invasive thing, rather like an external weight pressing down on him. He shivered as he made the connection, 'Bloodblossom is supposed to ward off ghosts and I'm...what, half-ghost? I better not try anything while I'm here, if I can feel the...whatever it is right now, I don't want to know what it'd do when I change.'
The bridge, a thick stone path, continued over a stretch of water that lapped silently at the inner side of the brick wall. As they passed, Maddie cooed softly at the double rows of gas lights on either side of the stone structure. "It's fed from an underground stream," Jack explained. "In the old legends, running water is supposed to ward off creatures of the night, like ghosts. The entire place is some kind of anti-ghost fortress, at least, if you believe that magicky muckity-muck."
'That's such a good sign,' Danny thought derisively, finding himself firmly on the side of, 'seeing is believing.'
And then they could see it, and Danny hardly believed it.
It was a manor house, though the sheer size of the structure almost made them apply the term 'castle' to the building instead. They had been so wrapped up in the immediate architecture that none of the newcomers had taken advantage of their distance to gander at the comparatively tall central building. Stretching away to multiple wings, the core of the structure rose to a crest at four stories, all of them cast of large stone blocks that appeared to be regular gray granite rather than the Silverstone from the outer wall. Trellises climbed some of the exterior, more Bloodblossom clinging to them, but not so much as to make the house look overgrown.
Off to the sides stretched two, slightly shorter 'branches' of the house, forming a 'U-shaped' courtyard complete with a gravel drive which slowly curved back on itself. The entire structure was decorated with Gothic crenelations, complete with deformed gargoyles and other dark-age designs.
"Home sweet home," Jack repeated softly, reverently, almost painfully.
The Fentons had come to Bloodblossom Court.
"Okay!" Slayer Anderson appears in a cloud of dark smoke, ala Darkwing Duck, coughing, "Yeah, that wasn't a good idea."
Reaching to grab a bottle of water, he takes a large drink. "Now, things are heating up. This chapter sees a little bit of departure from Danny's point of view, which might be startling for some readers. Granted, that should be offset by the fan-squeals of 'OMG Nick Fury and Shield!' So yeah, about my interpretation of everyone's favorite shadowy government agency: There's a lot of work that goes into making the world 'safe,' especially in a world with actually deities that pop up occasionally like in Marvel. Shield, in my opinion, does a lot of work that they don't get credit for."
Images appear of various Marvel genii (pick your favorite Marvel smart people and imagine them), "Like these guys, for instance. In the real world, these guys would be producing things which would endanger national security, especially if they got up to the really dangerous shenanigans. Remember in Iron Man 2? When Fury gets pissed at Tony Stark (yeah, I know, which time? haha, everyone's a comedian) for letting James Rhodes 'steal' a suit of armor? Shield is probably a big reason why there's such a status quo is God thing in Marvel...because they enforce it as much as they can. Status quo is good, status quo is predictable for an agency like Shield. That means they know when and where problems are going to come at them, which means they can focus on prevention rather than just reacting to problems. Can you imagine if the American Government got Iron Man specs? Yeah, no offense to anyone in the military or intelligence here, but...how long did it take Russia to get the Atomic Bomb after we had it? Yeah, thought so."
"My main point," Slayer explains, "is that scientific advancement has a tendency to proliferate in a world like ours. Look at the guy who made a gun you can print with a 3-D printer, the design is now online and you can download it. Think about the implications of that when you consider the Fenton Ghost tech. Shield would not want that kind of crap in any of the world's military's pockets, let alone on the open market, but...the Fentons have always been kind of weird and, this time at least, they underestimated Murphy's Law."
"I have no idea whether this is anywhere close to canon or not, but Marvel has so many different universes that I feel pretty good playing fast and loose with some of the rules here, as you may have noticed. The whole thing with Jazz kind of ties into my dislike of canon in some respects. Go back and look at DP canon...how many friends does Jazz have? Can't find any? Yeah, the only ones I see are the weird kids that she bugs as part of community service or something. There is that episode where Dash finds her attractive, but that comes and goes pretty quickly...likely because Jazz really was only interested in tutoring him...not any side benefits. Also, it gave me a good chance to display some of Danny's non-canon powers...which focus on the idea that, as a ghost, Danny is aware of a lot of things that normal humans just can't see."
"And...I'm pretty sure that's it. For those of you who are interested and haven't checked my other stories, I've got a DC Phantom story going on which is primarily a Danny Phantom/Teen Titans crossover, but expands into the entire DC 'verse. Now that my papers, finals, and other teacher stuff is done I will have more time to write and read and goof off...we'll see if any of that writing actually gets done or not. (crosses fingers) Hope so!"
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-Slayer Out!