Chapter 6 was so long I had to split it in two! XD The official chapter name will be "Wounds", cut into two parts, of course. This first part being "Mental Wounds" and the next part being "Battle Wounds". I'll try to get part 2 up as quickly as possible. :P Depending on how quickly I write.

WARNING: Bloody chapter! D:

Chapter 6- PART 1: (Mental) Wounds

Danny woke up. He was a little cold, a little wet, and a little sore, too. His head and back were leaning up against a blue dumpster and his legs were spread out on the concrete below him. Above his head was a bright blue sky. Waking up in the alley he had fallen asleep in reminded Danny that his run that previous night wasn't a nightmare. It was all real. Not only was he an orphan, but he was now homeless as well.

It was all thanks to Carpathan's rule, no doubt. His peacekeepers had been swarming FentonWorks' lab last Danny knew. The house was probably being turned into a peacekeeper retreat center, Danny mused dryly. Although he didn't know what was going on with Carpathan and the ghost portal, he did know that FentonWorks was no longer a safe place to meet.

The teen stood up and stretched his sore limbs, then walked out from the alley. When he had made his run, his mind was groggy and he was surrounded by darkness. Thus, Danny needed to get a good idea of where he was. He was a good distance from FentonWorks (Now wryly nicknamed "CarpathanDoesn'tWork" by Danny), but he could still see the house, and the peacekeepers that guarded it, in the distance. They didn't seem to notice the teen was there. Cautious nonetheless, Danny silently retreated back into the alley.

The alley was well-shaded from the bright sun, which made the concrete reflect painfully onto his eyes. It also had a dead end, and of course, a big blue dumpster. The dumpster emanated a bit of a stench, and a banana peel stuck out from underneath the lid. Danny wrinkled his nose at it. There was nothing more offensive to his nose than a stinky, blackened banana peel. Well, sour milk and the Ham were worse, come to think of it.

Now a banana he could go for, and maybe with some fresh, juicy ham and a glass of cold milk. He imagined himself eating that for breakfast, but his growling stomach ripped him out of his imagination and back into reality. He hadn't eaten anything since noon of that previous day. Danny looked at the dumpster for a few seconds, then laughed at himself. To even consider dumpster-diving... no, he wasn't that hungry. He just decided to look around until he found something worth eating.

The boy wandered about the streets of Amity Park, looking for something edible that wasn't sitting in a garbage bin. He searched all morning, but he had no luck. Danny leaned against a brick building and hugged his abdomen. He groaned in frustration and hunger, thinking back to that banana peel he'd found back at the alley. No. There's no way I'm hungry enough to eat that, he thought.

But as afternoon faded into evening, the banana peel grew more and more appetizing. Not only had Danny succeeded in not finding anything worth eating, but he hadn't seen a single Freedom Fighter since that previous day. Actually, he hadn't seen anyone out today. The streets were void. Not even a single peacekeeper roamed the streets. Odd, Danny thought. He had been so caught up in trying to find food that he hadn't noticed the absence of people. Was he alone?

Hunger distracted him from his thoughts once again. I may just eat leaves like Sam was going to do, he thought. Wait, Sam! Where was Sam? Her house... she had to be at her house. Danny broke out into a run. He wasn't that far from Sam's house at all, and he had barely broken a sweat when he arrived.

He walked up the stairs to his friend's front door. Suddenly, a sense of doom struck him like lightning. Was Sam hurt? Dead? The thought of his best friend being... dead... chilled Danny to the bone, causing him to shiver despite the warm spring air. He knocked on the door and called Sam's name. There was no answer. He knocked again and again, his thirst-induced hoarse voice growing desperate. His knocks grew louder and harder.

Suddenly the door flew open, and Danny found himself staring down a gun barrel. "Sam?" he squeaked.

The gunholder gasped. "Danny!" Sam exclaimed. She tossed down the weapon and immediately threw her arms around Danny.

The boy, though shocked, returned the hug with equal enthusiasm. Danny laughed, overjoyed. "I thought you were dead!"

"I thought you were dead, too!" Sam said, excited. The two broke the hug and looked at each other, grinning. "I meant to visit you early this morning, but all I saw were swarms of peacekeepers at your house."

"Well, I ran away late last night and woke up in an alley this morning," Danny told her. "I've spent all day looking for food, but..." His stomach rumbled. "Let's just say I didn't have any luck."

"I've got food in here, but I don't think you want to see what's in my kitchen." Sam's expression was no less than disturbed. And Sam was never disturbed.

"I'll handle it," Danny said, despite the fact he believed he knew what he would see when he went inside. He gave Sam a grim half-smile before his eyes fell to the ground, the smile with it.

"Come on, then," Sam said, her voice low. She picked up her gun and led Danny inside.

The salty, bitter, tangy scent of blood entered Danny's nostrils. He choked at the thickness of the stench, and almost vomited. Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, the teen forced himself to look up. No amount of gory horror movies could have prepared him for what he saw. The bile rose up again.

Mrs. Manson was lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood. Her dress and hair were stained a dark reddish-brown from dried blood, but an open wound on her head was still a bright red on the inside. Judging by the sheer amount of the crusty brown stuff, Danny realized with a jolt- she had bled there, alive, for a long time. A much fresher wound cut right through her chest to her heart.

Mr. Manson was in a dining room chair, slumped over as if he was asleep. A small puddle of dried blood was underneath him on the once-pristine kitchen floor, and more had to be on the table.

Sam's white-haired grandmother sat in her wheelchair like usual, but she was limp and her expression was one of shock. Her expression was just frozen there like a wax figurine or some grotesque puppet. Aside from a little trickle of blood from her lip, the old woman had no obvious wounds.

"Who did this?" Danny's tone was unusually dark.

"Peacekeepers," Sam whispered. "He didn't do it himself."

"But the peacekeepers... he sent them," Danny muttered angrily. "You know he did." The teen slunk off down the stairs. "He makes me sick!"

Sam shoved the gun into the belt she had added to her outfit, grabbed a loaf of bread, and headed after her friend. She found him sulking on a chair downstairs. "I don't like him any more than you do, Danny," Sam said, sitting down in the chair next to him.

"But you... you let them kill your family," Danny said, his voice quiet but tense.

"You think I did?" asked Sam. "You know me better than that." Danny refused to meet her eyes. Sam huffed and pulled out the gun from her belt. "How do you think I got this gun?"

Danny looked at the weapon. "I... assumed your parents kept one around?" he said, disgust still apparent in his baby blue eyes.

Sam shook her head. "After the one who shot my grandma did his business, I was right in the position to kick him for what it's worth and take his gun. But the other peacekeepers were quick. My dad was dead already and my mom was alive but dying on the floor. I shot after them when they ran out the door, but I didn't hit anyone."

Danny looked into Sam's amethyst eyes. "And you just let your mom suffer..." he growled, stating the question as more of a fact.

"I thought there was hope of saving her, but after a while of trying to help her, she asked me to kill her." Sam wiped a tear from her eye, emotion beginning to taint her voice. "I refused. She gave me the mom look and told me to do it again." She sniffled.

The look of disgust in Danny's eyes started to perish. "And then?" he asked.

"I told her no! She pulled my wrist and the gunpoint to her heart with her hand, told me to pull the trigger and... and..." Sam shut up, her voice too full of emotion to continue.

Danny softened up completely when he saw Sam- his strong, fearless best friend- breaking down and crying. He got up and knelt down next to her. "Sam, no... look, I'm sorry I thought you were being cruel and heartless. You know me. I'm stupid and impulsive sometimes."

Sam looked at Danny, tears still streaming down her face. A tiny smile quirked at her purple lips. "Sometimes?" she asked in a nasal voice.

"OK, stupid and impulsive," Danny caved. "You know Sam, you don't look right with tears on your face." He smiled and stood up. "I know you better than that."

"I was trying to be strong for you," Sam said, wiping the wet streams off her face. "It's me who should be sorry for your thoughts. Sorry if I seemed indifferent."

"Nah. I forgave you already. No need to apologize." Danny helped her from her chair.

The girl sniffed one last time and wiped her hands on her skirt. "Thanks, Danny," she said.

"You're always welcome," her best friend said with a smile. A forgiving smile.

Sam wanted to give Danny a hug, but she decided she'd shown enough dependence for the time being. So she changed the subject instead. "Hey, um... I brought you something to eat," she said, holding up the loaf of bread.

It was as if Danny suddenly remembered he was hungry. "Oh! Cool. Thanks, Sam," he said, eagerly taking the loaf. He sat down on the floor and patted the ground in front of him.

Sam sat down as Danny opened the loaf of bread and dug in. He shoved a piece of bread into his mouth and held up a finger. Sam knew he wanted to tell her something, and waited for him to swallow. After choking down the slice, he got down to business. "We need to set up some rules for this team, ASAP," he said, taking another slice of bread and eating it.

"Shouldn't we get Tucker for this?" Sam inquired.

Danny paused his chewing. "You're right, as usual," he mumbled. "Wouldn't wanna start without him." The teen stood up, followed by Sam. Danny motioned for his friend to go on ahead of him. She complied and headed for the stairs. Danny tightened his headband and started after her, munching on another piece of bread.

As the two passed through the kitchen to the front door, Danny sealed his nose. He hated the sight of death as well as the smell of it, so he concentrated his gaze on Sam and ignored the bodies. When they left the house, Danny released a long breath. "Tell me we're not going back there again," the raven-haired boy said, relieved to get out of the house.

"Oh, yeah," Sam said. "I never want to see this place again."

The two friends walked alone on the eerily empty streets, making their way to Tucker's house. They talked and ate bread until they reached their friend's home. They entered the house and saw Tucker sitting on his living room floor, messing around with some wires on the floor. He had on a headset, which was connected to his phone, which was being hooked up to a plug in the wall. He was so concentrated in his work that he didn't seem to notice his friends entering.

Danny approached Tucker and stood next to him. "So they spared you, too?" he asked.

Tucker jumped, then turned around to see his best friends looking down at him. "Danny! Sam! Thank goodness!" The boy threw off the headset and gave both of his friends a brief but glad hug. His smile was sincere but grim.

"Your parents are gone, aren't they, Tucker?" Sam asked.

Tucker just nodded, averting his eyes. "Yours too, huh?" The other teens nodded. "Well, I'm afraid we're not alone. Come check this out." Tucker picked up his cell phone from the floor and showed it to his friends. "Using the phone numbers I collected from the Freedom Fighters, I was able to create a system of communication from here to everyone else, and vice-versa. I got tons of calls from people who lost their families to peacekeeping forces! This whole massacre is that mayor's way of telling us he has all the power."

"I knew it," Danny growled. "I knew it all along."

"This isn't gonna stop us, is it, Danny?" Tucker asked, a twinkle of hope in his sad jade-colored eyes.

"No. It'll only make us fight harder," Danny said. He was determined and decidedly angry. "We've got to show the team we won't let this kill us. We can't. Ever. Come on guys; we've got some rules to make."

Stupid Fenton. You couldn't protect their families, you big failure. What good are you at making rules? Danny, though he disguised his feelings with a mask of confidence, still bashed himself for everything on the inside. This whole event of the Massacre of Families had only made him feel all the more guilty. Underneath that mask, he was swimming in his fear and guilt. Just a scared kid, nothing more.

The three sat in a circle on Tucker's living room floor. "OK, we need three basic rules to help this team really work. There are three of us," Danny explained. "What do you suggest, Tuck?"

"I suggest you share some of that bread with me," Tucker said, eyeing the half-eaten loaf of bread in Danny's hands. Danny alone had eaten most of it by himself, but had shared several slices with Sam. It would only be fair to share some with Tucker, too.

"Here," Danny said, tossing his friend five slices of bread. "Which gives me an idea." He smiled. "We'll all have to share our food supplies with each other. Even if food is scarce, we'll have to make sure everyone is fed." He sealed the plastic bag that the loaf was in and set it aside.

"And gluttony is starvation," Sam added. "Rule number two: Eating until you're full in plentiful times means no food for hungry times when they come. Just eat enough to keep yourself going for another day or so. Same with water."

"That's a good one," Danny commented. "Not only should we support each other with food, but we should defend each other on the battlefield, too." The teen was remembering his first battle with the peacekeepers, in which he and Sam had each other's backs, and when John had willingly run to Dawn's rescue. "A partner effort will improve performance."

"So we've got our basic rules. Great," said Sam.

"Tucker, call up the Fighters," Danny ordered, standing up. "There's a meeting in the warehouse by the old Nasty Burger's location tonight."

,.~*~.,

The old Nasty Burger was nothing but an empty lot now, and located in the part of Amity Park that nobody visited any more. It was no wonder that the small, oddly-named restaurant moved to the "nicer" area of town. As to why the actual building was torn down was a mystery. There was a large, run-down warehouse right next to the vacant lot, in which Danny had ordered the Freedom Fighters to meet.

Several entered at a time, carrying large quantities of water bottles and non-refrigerated foods. They set them down in the corner of the warehouse, then congregated in front of a large stack of crates. Danny sat upon the stack of crates, which reached much higher than the kitchen table did. This made the young leader easier to see.

More downtrodden Fighters arrived carrying bundles of food and water; some teens arriving carried food, but weren't part of the team. Others arrived empty-handed. The other teens must have seen the Freedom Fighters heading for the warehouse with food and followed them there. When everyone had arrived, there were approximately twice the amount of teens as was in the group before. Now there were approximately seventy teenagers looking up at Danny, Sam and Tucker.

Good thing this is a big warehouse, Danny thought.

"We can't take them all in as Freedom Fighters," Sam whispered to her two male friends. "There won't be enough resources to go around."

"Lighten up, Sam," Tucker told her in reply. "They're orphans now, just like the rest of us. Who else can support them? We should at least give them a chance."

Danny saw the oncoming argument and jumped in to prevent infighting right away. "You're both absolutely right."

Sam and Tucker stared at him. "We are?" they asked in unison.

"Yeah," Danny replied, becoming more confident with his answer. "True, we can't afford to add so many new people, but where else can they go? They're in the same boat as we are. Who knows?" Danny turned his head toward the crowd. "Maybe the expanse will help us instead of harm us."

Danny stood upon the crates and waved his hands. "Freedom Fighters and visitors! We need you all to listen!" he yelled above the noise. When the Fighters hushed, the other teens knew to listen. They all turned their hopeful eyes to Danny. "I... don't need to explain why we're gathered here, do I?" Everyone shook his head. "About half of you already know who we are. I'm Danny Fenton, and these are my co-leaders, Sam Manson and Tucker Foley. We lead the Freedom Fighters in a war against the man who sent those peacekeepers to murder your families."

The reaction from the crowd was enormous. Teens muttered and cried out for revenge.

"I know you're all angry and upset!" Danny yelled, taking back the attention of the teens. "Frankly, I'm furious. But we can't just jump in and start killing people! There's got to be a plan and some rules."

"Danny, all my little siblings are dead!" a new teen said, emotion ringing in his voice. "I will fight with your team!"

Danny acknowledged him with a grave nod.

"My sister, a Freedom Fighter, is dead," John said, looking sick and angry.

"Dawn," Tucker breathed. Danny remembered the quiet girl with brown hair and aquamarine eyes. She was John's support and pacifier for his extremely short temper.

"A dead Freedom Fighter," Danny said, bowing his head. There was silence for a minute as everyone, including the new teens, bowed their heads and acknowledged the dead Fighter's life.

When Danny looked up again, he noticed that Carrots- or Brent, as was his name- had a younger boy clinging to him, obviously not a teenager yet. He looked relatively shaken in his ruffled-up green jacket, unkempt golden-brownish hair and smudged glasses, and yet oddly calm next to the tall redhead. "Brent," Danny addressed him, "Who's that guy with you?"

"Oh, him?" Brent looked up and pointed to the younger boy. "This is my little brother, Chris. He escaped the Massacre. I found him hiding in a closet an hour later." Chris looked up, his hazel eyes sad but shining. "He's only 12, but he'd make a great addition to the team. He'd be a help for your technology guy."

Danny nodded. "He knows stuff?"

"Lots of stuff." Brent patted his little brother on the back.

"He'll be a good addition nonetheless," Danny concluded. He looked around at all the teens. "Seeing how many are here, I think it's safe to say we should set up some rules."

"Rules? But we break rules!" one Fighter shouted.

"We break the mayor's rules," Sam cut in. "A team needs rules, or else it will fall apart."

"Good point," said a boy.

"It's true," Kwan agreed. "If it weren't for game rules, we'd get clobbered all the time."

"Likewise with us," Danny added. "We can't let ourselves get defeated by this tragedy!" Teens looked up as his voice began to grow stronger. "From now on death will be used as a strength! Unite, Freedom Fighters! Unite and fight!" He calmed his voice down and began to speak in a level tone. "Here's the first rule: Watch each other's backs! Pick a fighting partner now, those of you who choose to stay and fight. This person whom you choose will be the one whom you will dedicate your life to fighting alongside. Fight as one."

"And you should share the food you find with everyone if possible," Tucker said. "We support each other with food as well as fight."

"And never eat until you're full," Sam added. "You'll get hungry again later with no food to spare. Even when times are plentiful, like now, the food should last as long as possible. In other words, eat very little." There was a great deal of muttering after this.

A Fighter named Michael lifted his head up to his leaders, a shimmer in his dark green eyes. "I think we can do it!" he exclaimed boldly. A cheer rose up from the teens.

"One more thing!" Danny shouted. The team fell silent. "We'll be living on the streets from now onward," the leader said gravely. "We can survive without our houses. I mean, this warehouse is an excellent shelter. We have food for the time being. And if things start to run out, we can hunt, can't we? We can survive out here."

"I'm not going back to that old house, anyway," one girl said.

"I agree!" yelled John passionately. "There's too much pain there now!"

"Home isn't my home any more."

There were some, however, that disagreed. "But my house is so much nicer than this old place! More comfortable, too," said one boy, turning and leaving, pushing his way through the crowd.

"The food will last longer if it's just me eating it," said another, following the other boy out. Others followed without a word, including a few established Freedom Fighters.

Something painful twisted itself within Danny's heart, then the angry words flew out of his mouth. "You won't be welcomed back!" No one but a couple of former Fighters turned to look at Danny. Then they, too, slinked off onto the streets.

"Sacrificing a fight for their families to get a little extra food and comfort," Sam hissed under her breath.

"That's low, man," Tucker concluded. Other Fighters had the same opinions, judging from the muttering. They couldn't understand how someone could be so disloyal as to leave the team they'd stuck with for so long.

"Rule number four!" Danny cried. "The price of disloyalty such as this will be a permanent banishment from the team! You'll have to fend for yourselves. You will never be able to join again." And so the Freedom Fighters became fifty, twenty left to fend for themselves. Seven were part of the original thirty-five. Seven were destined to be scorned by their former teammates. Danny sighed and looked upon the loyal fifty. This was his team. These were the true Freedom Fighters. "We could win or lose this war," Danny began, "but I'm betting on the win. Despite the hardships we're about to face, I believe in you. We do.

"Don't look back like they did. Fight for your future, because if you don't fight, you will not have a future. Fight for your families. Use them as your motivation, but not with the objective of vengeance. Ask yourself, would they want you to fight for them?" There was silence for at least five seconds before Danny spoke again, in a low voice. "Violence isn't usually the answer, but what other choice do we have now? It's the only way."

,.~*~.,

EDITED: 8/3/13

Le end this first part of chapter 6! Hope you liked it :D Hope you'll be awaiting part 2 eagerly! Next part is where the meat of the story starts to set in. Over halfway done with the first book, you know that right? :3 4 more full chapters after the next part and an epilogue. Fun! ^^