Danny stared out the slight opening in his curtains. The morning sun sparkled off tiny flakes freefalling from the half clouded sky, sending their little glares into the young halfa's baby blues. He curled his pajama top tighter over himself, not from cold but from the uncomfortable twist in his stomach. There was something familiar about the snow, familiar and warm. But there was also something evil about it that he couldn't quite pinpoint.
There were memories hidden in those crystal flakes that he couldn't get to no matter how desperate he was. That's one thing he loathed about the torture he was put through; it took away so much of his past. His parents' faces were blurs, his friends were single colored blobs, his town was faded buildings and smeared words, and his past life was a mess of flickering memories that felt more delusional than real.
But maybe, Danny thought, just maybe if he could get into contact with some of the things that haunted his mind, like snow, then he could remember. That's what found the boy up at such an ungodly hour. His ice core picked up on the snow at four o'clock, long before the sun could even think of warming the Wisconsin hillside. When the star finally made its appearance Danny decided to get a closer look at the snow from his window.
The outside world was only dusted in cottony fluff, but it was barely the first snow of the season and still just November, so there was plenty of time for the weather to take its full toll on the land. Yet even such a small amount of snow had Danny entranced. For a moment he thought he saw a little boy reflected on the frosted surface of the window panes. Furrowing his brows, the halfa leaned closer to the image.
What was a child doing outside?
Before he knew it, the window was open letting in a blast of snowflakes and chilled air that ruffled the curtains on either side of him and blew his midnight locks back. He reached out to grab the child he'd seen, but there was no one there. Instead fat crystal bundles touched down on the heated skin of his extended arm. The boy watched in fascination as they collapsed into puddles sending shivers of tingles up his arm. The feeling was invigorating.
It called to something deep inside him, inside his core; a tickle that lingered as an unreachable itch. But the snow got to that itch, so maybe that's all he needed: more snow. Looking down Danny saw the barely foot wide ledge that jutted out and spanned the outer wall of the castle. He set his hand on the beige concrete. The corner of his mouth twitched up when a perimeter of snow melted around his palm, numbing his fingers and finding that itch in his core.
Danny's eyes slid shut as he reveled the warmth blooming from the touch of cold.
"C'mon Danny!"
Gasping, Danny's eyes shot open and his arm pulled back. He didn't need to be told that the voice he heard was that of the child he'd seen moments before, but he didn't hear it out loud, it came from his core. Touching his numbed hand to his chest, Danny stared at the still falling snow. Glancing behind him and seeing that no one was watching, the young halfa turned back to the ledge.
Hesitantly, he stepped onto the freezing concrete, shivering as the melting snow soaked his pajamas. His chest was still sore and sent trembles of pain through his this frame, but, just as every time he made drastic moves, he was too focused to care. His hand gripped the side of the window opening, barely skimming the numbing glass as he steadied himself.
The fat snowflakes descending from the gray sky touched every available area of skin on the young halfa. Danny's hands and feet and face were bombarded by frozen water, and each tiny connection felt better and better. The world dropped from around him and there was only him and the cold.
And a little boy.
A mittened hand grabbed his and matching baby blue eyes looked to him filled with mischief. The open mouthed smile of the other four year old oozed confidence and a care free attitude that Danny could only remember seeing on their father. Feeling the contagious affect of the other boy, Danny laughed and obediently followed.
Together they took cover in the crater of snow surrounding a tree. From either side of the great oak two knitted hats crept out, one of blue and one of red. Following the caps came glittering blue eyes that scanned the horizon like snipers scoping out their next kill. Finally, the orbs landed on an orange haired girl on a nearby swing-set kicking her legs back and forth, leisurely reading a thick book on her lap.
Sharing a look, the boys grabbed premade snowballs at the base of their hiding place. The dominant of the two counted down.
"...1"
"...2"
"...3!"
Danny gasped, eyes shooting open, when the distant calling of his name finally pierced his deep trance and he noticed a hand lightly gripping his forearm. Turning on his heels, the boy's arm tore from the grip and his feet slid on the iced concrete of the window ledge. Panicking, he flailed his hand out looking for anything to save him from falling three stories to the frosted ground. Frail hands found the heavy fabric of the curtains and dug deep as Danny's legs stiffened to steady himself.
Realizing he'd scrunched his eyes close, he slowly opened them to find out who had the audacity to scare him like they did. He wasn't too surprised to see Erickson and Vlad standing below him, panic and worry written all over their faces. The three stared at each other for a few awkward seconds until Vlad decided to break the silence.
"Daniel, what-"
But Danny didn't feel like having Vlad yell at him, especially not after the older halfa took part in nearly making him fall off a ledge, so instead he took action. With uncharacteristic grace, the teen jumped from the window to the soft carpet of his room, wincing and unconsciously wrapping his arm around his midsection when he landed in a crouch. Without saying a word or making anymore eye contact with the two men in his room, he half limped to his bed. Pulling back the fluffy covers with his free arm, he casually got back into bed, curling a cocoon around himself with only his nose being detectable, facing away from his guests.
He needed to catch up on the sleep he lost from waking up so early.
"Danny, get up"
Said boy ignored the blue haired pop star outside of his blankets. After Vlad and Erickson left, Danny fell into a peaceful sleep, no nightmares, no confusing dreams, no haunting pains; just good ol' sleep. He didn't know what time it was and he didn't really care. All he wanted was for Ember to go away.
"Danny," the teen said more firmly. The halfa still refused to get up. Ember struggled to keep her frustration down and not strangle the seemingly asleep boy. If she had it her way she wouldn't be calling him by his actual name, she'd be using one of the nicknames that came from their banter and she'd be pushing him out of bed to wake him. The problem? Plasmius told all the ghosts to be more careful around Danny, which meant no startling him, or being too aggressive around him, or doing anything that could possibly invoke hallucinations or any of that other crap that she didn't care too much about.
As far as she was concerned, Danny was fine, especially if he could withstand the normal antics of the ghosts around him. Unfortunately, Vlad had a point and Ember didn't have the motivation to argue with him on his rules for the younger halfa. At least not yet. When she decided Danny was really better she would fight Vlad again. Until then, she was stuck obeying the billionaire and his petty rules.
"Danny!" she tried for the umpteenth time. That name really tasted funny in her mouth…
Meanwhile, Danny curled his covers tighter. It had been a few days since his last episode and each day greeted him with a different ghost that decided that he or she wanted to suddenly treat him drastically different. They only called him Danny and didn't dare lay a hand on him for any reason, and they kept their voices low and even as if he were a frightened bunny ready to dart away.
He hated it.
Danny would rather they treated him like their enemy like in the old days, before he was tortured beyond repair and before his mind went to the wind. He despised being treated like he was weak; ready to fall apart at any minute. It was even weirder coming from the ghosts that used to throw him into buildings and plan his demise. Just yesterday, Skulker visited him and it had to be the strangest experience Danny had ever had.
Danny never imagined the robot ghost was capable of delicacy. But then the hunter came into his room calmly, no insults or threats of having the halfa's pelt mounted above his fireplace left his jagged mouth, and Danny's first impressions were proven wrong. The ghost's hands never once strayed to his back to grab a hidden taser or blaster, and he stayed a good couple of feet away from his frequent prey.
At first he didn't say anything and the hunter and prey stared awkwardly at one another. Danny uncomfortably broke contact and shifted his eyes from place to place around his room. Skulker narrowed his gaze as if studying the young halfa. When Danny's eyes made it back to the hunter's solid green eyes, the ghost decided it was time to say something.
"Well-" the ghost paused where he was going to say Danny's name and his eyes widened just barely. The robotic face twisted in confusion, contemplatively concentrating on the teen on the bed who flinched at the sudden change in the hunter. Skulker moved his mouth as if trying to converse with himself about something Danny wasn't allowed to hear. The teen moved his attention to what the ghost was saying to himself and thought he caught the words whelp, ghost child, and other various names the hunter usually called him.
It was then he realized what Skulker was trying to do. The ghost didn't know Danny's actual name; he only ever called him pet names. Danny would have laughed if he wasn't so put off by the robot ghost. Taking pity, he decided to help the hunter.
"Danny," he said simply. Silence.
"Right, well, Danny," he stopped again, face donning disgust, then he cleared his throat and continued, "uh, go-good talk, yeah, yup...so…" Danny didn't get a chance to react before the hunter was through the floor and out of hearing distance.
Of all the ghosts to take pity on him Skulker was the worst to have to deal with. A ruthless hunter like Skulker isn't supposed to be awkward, especially around his prey. It's just one of the many reasons Danny had on his list of why to hate his situation.
"Ya know what? Forget it, I'm outta here."
That's another reason. It's not that he hated the ghosts' company, he just despised how they decided to act around him.
Danny felt the room cool suddenly. Knowing that Ember was gone, the halfa poked his head out of his covers and glanced around. He let out a long breath, not realizing how tense he'd been at Ember's presence. There were a few moments of nothingness before the teen felt after-sleep drowsiness creeping in again. As much as he'd love to be up and doing stuff, or at least pee, his warm blankets were much more inviting and his eyelids were already falling closed again.
"Phantom!"
With a gasp, Danny launched into a sitting position clutching his covers protectively, his eyes jumping from one place to another but not seeing anything through the fog in his brain. When his mind finally restored itself to its alert glory the boy was able to focus on the ghostly child that invaded his room. Youngblood, grinning at the halfa, floated above the spot where Ember left. Perched on his shoulder was his trusty skeletal pet.
"Plasmius said-" the parrot began to whisper, but he was cut off by the pirate boy.
"Aw, who cares what that geezer has to say!" began Youngblood. "He's not the boss of me. Besides, I'm technically older than him, so he should be listening to me."
Danny took in the two ghosts and let a smile grace his face. Now these were ghosts he could stand having around. He could act however he wanted around the ghost child and the boy wouldn't change how he acted around the halfa. Youngblood would be too defiant to change how he acted.
"Good to know I can count on one ghost to treat me the same," Danny said quietly. He was glad to find that his voice didn't break or come out too raspy when he spoke. His statement reminded the two ghosts in the room of his presence and they turned their attention back on him. Excitedly, Youngblood zoomed over to Danny, hovering right in front of the injured boy. Surprising himself, the halfa didn't flinch back at the close proximity.
"Okay, so I've had this story trapped in me forever, now, and I've been dying to tell you!" the pirate child spewed out. Danny nodded to signal the child to continue. Shaking from having the story trapped for so long, Youngblood touched down on the bed, bouncing with his energy. "Okay, so…"
Erickson paused outside of Danny's room hearing the young halfa's voice. He sounded like he was talking to someone, but the butler couldn't recall the boy ever talking to anyone that much, not even himself. The strangest part was that the boy would pause for a few moments, then continue on as if someone was replying, but no other voice was there.
The butler balanced his tray expertly on one arm and reached to open the door, then hesitated. The boy could be talking to a ghost whose voice just didn't carry through the door. If Erickson barged in, the ghost would more than likely go invisible, not giving the older man a chance to glimpse its identity. Rethinking his plan, the man gently placed his hand on the knob and turned it as quietly as he could manage.
"Skulker didn't even know my name when he came over," said Danny to the empty space in front of him, almost smiling. Concerned, Erickson opened the door wider, so he could get a better look at the area in front of the teen. Over the years working for Vlad, the butler became an expert at telling if ghosts were in the room.
The first sign was present; the room was not the average temperature. Fire and plant core ghosts made the room warmer, ice core and general energy based ghosts made the room cooler. Danny's room stayed cold due to his ice core, but the butler was used to that chill. This current chill was severer than the normal room's temperature.
Second was invisibility. To the average eye, a ghost is invisible, but to the eye of someone who's dealt with ghosts for decades a barely visible outline can be seen, one much different than that of intangibility. The power level of a ghost determines how much of an outline it has when it slips into invisibility. Powerful ghosts such as Plasmius and Fright Knight can manage to make their outline nearly untraceable. Others, such as blobs and ectopusses, have a very obvious outline. That is, if anyone can calm down enough to look for such an outline, but Erickson could see none by the still rambling Danny or anywhere in the room.
The next sign to look for was imprints. Just as a human makes a couch sink in or a chair move when it sits, or papers to rustle when it walks by, a ghost does the same. Looking around, the butler saw no traces of chairs ajar or objects moving. The bedding in front of the young halfa was no more mussed than what it normally was, nor were there any dips that looked anything like a ghost bottom.
Lastly: voices, noise. Ghosts can't resist staying quiet for long; whether it's snickering, moaning, groaning, or plain old talk, a ghost can be sure to make some sort of noise. Obviously, the only sound Erickson could pick up was Danny talking to what appeared to be himself.
His confusion and concern for the boy increased from his conclusion that no ghost was present in the room besides half of one. The butler was hoping the boy would be able to get over the hallucinations, since before a couple days ago, he'd gone through weeks without any major problems. To see the teen back to what Erickson assumed to be an illusionary world had he old man worried more than when a baby was dropped off at Vlad's doorstep.
Deciding he'd let Danny go on enough, the butler made a point to step on a creaky spot in the carpet as he walked into the room. The halfa startled and locked eyes with the elder man, though they darted away for the briefest second as if watching his illusion disappear. Erickson tried to keep the concern off of his wrinkled face, but it was clear by Danny's downcast gaze that he knew how the butler felt. Said butler only wished the boy could understand why he, and everyone else, was so worried for him.
Erickson sighed. The teen acted as if what they were doing was a crime, like they should be ashamed for treating him like the fragile child he became. But they were just trying to look out for him, help him heal.
Because no one could possibly go through what he did and not need help.
I want to assure you guys that all characters and actions I put in this story have a purpose in the long run and everything has been overanalyzed so that it is as realistic as possible. I'm not going to throw in new characters just for the heck of it and I'm not going to shift the entire story's focus onto them. This is still about Danny.
Sorry I sorta threw that character in so suddenly last chapter, he wasn't supposed to make a real appearance until a lot later, but the opportunity was just there and he's the type of person to do what he wants ;). Besides, I want to drop in connections as early as possible to ease characters and "mini plots" in, hence why I talked about Amity Park's disappearance so early.
Challenge to Writers: write what Youngblood's story to Danny is. I don't have time to write a short for that right now, and I wanna see what you guys can come up with. Let me know if you're up to this.
To all my lovely fans here on Fanfiction, I appreciate you more than you can possibly imagine. I love reading your reactions to each chapter and I love knowing that you guys support me so much in this story, as well as my others. The statistics on this story seriously blow my mind.
As always: review, favorite and follow if you haven't, don't stop reading, and sorry that my author's notes are always so long.
