I don't own Danny Phantom.

Stayin' Alive

I've been kicked around
since I was born

And now it's all right, it's ok
and you may look the other way
We can try to understand
The New York Times' effect on man

Whether you're a brother
or whether you're a mother
you're stayin' alive, stayin' alive
Feel the city breakin
and everybody shakin'
and were stayin' alive, stayin' alive
Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive
Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive

~By the Bee Gees

Have you ever felt that childlike need to just pretend to be a dog one day? Come on, admit it… You and millions of others have done it. We have all skittered around on the floor on all fours, barking, howling, putting the dog's collar around your neck, drinking from water bowls, and refusing to eat unless it was on the floor or in the dog's dish. It is just something little kids (and some adults) do.

But after the tedious restraint, Ol' Blister, had been clamped torturously around the sensitive flesh of his neck… Danny would shudder at any child wanting to be a dog, to be trapped, to be controlled… No matter how innocent the thought.

Every time he pried at the device or even just brushed it with his fingers by accident, Danny was given a sharp electrical jab of warning that made his fingers twitch violently or just tremble for the rest of the day. It was painful, sure, but it did not even compare to the feeling of utter hopelessness that pulsed through him. He was no longer free, but he was a prisoner and he had to obey his master. It was a scary thought, really. He could be disposed of at any minute, tortured at any hour, or be psychologically disturbed any day of the week. And it was his choice.

It was his, Danny's, choice to stick himself in harm's way again, throwing caution to the wind and chucking common sense to the nearest trash compacter. It was his choice to follow the Head Ancient's iron fisted rule as it pointed bullyingly to Vlad's house.

And yet… to save Clockwork, he felt it was totally worth it.

Although, I hope I don't go crazy, Danny mused darkly as he thought stutteringly of the sheer paranoia that would inhibit him for the rest of his life at Vlad's Mansion. He would never know when the Ancients would be coming to hurt him, to try and break him…

Danny sighed resignedly and tried to put the matter out of his mind and focus on something else.

Rubbing his temples, he abruptly noticed with a groan that they throbbed as the rest of his cranium pounded on mercilessly. These intense migraines were a new development to Danny's misery and seemed to intensify with light, although sound didn't seem to bother him. He cast it off to just getting reused to a significantly brighter environment than the gloomy Ghost Zone that had only a slight iridescent shimmer that flickered to give off light. It was nothing compared to the sun…

With another groan Danny reached over and closed the blinds to the window that had been glaring down piercing sunbeams at his delicate frosty eyes. As soon as the expensive window treatments had been closed, sweet relief coursed through Danny's head at the darkness the gratefully soothed his headache as well as calm his rushing emotions and clear his head. Taking in a deep breath with his eyes closed, Danny took a moment to recollect his thoughts and tried to put them together in some organization of thought until a sudden rush overcame him, as if all adrenaline had been drained from his body.

Pain. Sheer, utter, explicit…

Pain.

A strangled cry no louder than a pin dropping worked its way up his vocal cords, the exertion stinging his entire midsection in pain as it released. Danny gagged at the burning and aching that pulsed through his body that was enough to knock himself off of the bed as he involuntarily thrashed. The injured teen felt the weightlessness take over his body before hearing a nauseating CRACK echo throughout the room.

The last thing Danny remembered was the distinct searing of his abdomen and the surefire hunch that it was his ribs that had snapped like toothpicks.

Vlad had been eating breakfast, very mundane breakfast, but tasty meal nonetheless. He could smell the heavenly whole grain toast with strawberry jam complete with a tall glass of expensive morning wine (because that is how Vladimir Masters rolls, with overly done meals) waft from the counter.

Of course, Vlad had been given this lovely meal by none other than his personal chef, Nomis, and her assistant. Nomis was a ghostly woman with ghostly white skin and she about five foot tall with a lean frame complete with silky locks of thick silvery blonde wavy hair that curled at the ends at her well defined waist. The beautiful ghost chef looked to be about in her mid twenties in her simple, unstained, cotton white sundress; even though her wooden framed glasses showed eyes with a gleam of intelligence and understanding that looked far beyond the young age. The woman was as graceful as the ever crisp white calla lily growing in the kitchen window, bounding across the sterling silver kitchen that she simply… belonged with; she fit so well that even her assistant seemed to blend into the canvas of the kitchen.

The assistant was a frail, ghostly blue tinged child who looked approximately seven years old, and the solitary little girl was simply an enigma. She was about three feet tall and looked to be about thirty-five pounds, and if she had been human, child surely services would have whisked her away because of malnourishment that resulted in her tiny stature.

But the most eccentric item about this girl was not the intense omnipotent look in her eyes, or the out of control white curls with intensifying red streaks that bounced down her back. No… This seven year old had a haunted look behind the glasses to her pale stormy grey eyes that darted over her shoulder like a horror movie victim.

Perhaps, the paranoia was another condition which came with her silence. For, as long as Vlad had known her, the child was mute, never uttering a word… Not even to tell the staff of the mansion her name. (Not that she could, of course… But that is a tale for another day.)

Jolting out of his thoughts as a plate was placed in front of him, Vlad glanced up quickly at Nomis with a half hearted nod of thanks before he went back to thinking. There were several arrangements he needed to make regarding Scaeth's imprisonment, and introducing the staff to the knowledge of another being in the house would be at the top of his priorities.

But of course, Vlad knew that even with the tiny number of ghosts under his employment that one of the snooping women had seen Scaeth already. It was foolish to think otherwise. The older man warily hoped that the convict had not blown the gossiping women up yet…

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Vlad rose from his chair with fluidity often associated only with him. The man looked to his kitchen staff, intending to give a swift nod of departure when he stopped. The little assistant was staring at him with little grey orbs that gored his very soul. Ignoring the shiver that crawled down his spine, Vlad met her gaze for a moment until she darted her eyes up meaningfully to the ceiling and quickly back to him as if conveying to him a secret message-

SMASH!

Vlad jumped a good two feet into the air at the massive sound wave that had just penetrated the sound proof room. Everything was completely silent for just a moment before the most tortured scream Vlad had ever hear pierced his ears. Eyes immediately followed the strangled sound to the cream ceiling, and with only pausing to give the little girl an astonished look, the elder halfa 'went ghost' and phased abruptly through the ceiling and onto the floor of the room of the now silent Scaeth.

As soon as the man's feet hit the floor, he instantly lit his hand with pink ectoplasm for light and stood over the unconscious teen to survey the situation.

The child's face was even paler than the deathly looking white that normally suited his countenance and this iridescent pale was complete with cold sweat pooling on the soft curves of his face. Vlad felt a sharp intake of a sickening sense of an emotion that he could not name wash over him, and gave him the need to do something for the weakened teen that he now realized had fallen off of the bed (which was almost impossible given just how large the mattress was).

The elder man gathered the thin cloaked figure into his arms and with a gentleness he did not know (or want to know) that he had, Vlad placed the child onto the squishy mattress. Cocking his head to the side, Vlad really did not know what to make of this. It was obvious that the young one had not randomly fallen off of the bed and it was simply unlikely that he rolled off voluntarily and-

Suddenly the train of thought running through his head just halted as he looked at an ominous icy blue liquid that was running down his arms. It was freezing to the touch and as soon as it was warmed and sizzled for a few moments by the touch of his skin it altered its coloring to a bright green, as if it were ectoplasm.

Was that Scaeth's blood?

Narrowing his eyes, Vlad looked towered over the teen and pulled the cloak off of the slim figure. Looking at the much less intimidating teenager in a t-shirt and black jeans, the elder halfa raised an eyebrow questioningly at the growing dark stains in the frail young man's shirt. He looked at Scaeth for a moment, debating whether or not to care until he gave a resigned sigh and pulled back the black shirt-

Ug.

Turning slightly green, Vlad winced at the sight. That strange frigid aqua blood was all over the chest of the young man oozing from a wound obviously made from a rib protruding painfully from his abdominal cavity, causing the halfa to bite his lip in concentration. Scaeth must have had that rib broken really badly for awhile for that to be halfway out of his flesh, but how had he kept this broken rib from him? After all, Vlad prided himself on being a very observant individual, and to have someone undoubtedly in a lot of pain and him not notice it? Sure, he may not have really cared…. But at least he would have known about it and he could have helped him (if only to get on the young one's good side, but nobody needed to know that).

Shaking his head, Vlad walked to the bathroom to procure a first aid kit. After swiftly washing his hands and forearms, the man set himself next to the child and braced the rib with one hand and the other on Scaeth's chest. And without further ado, he snapped the rib back into place only to have freezing blood spewing out of the gaping wound.

Ouch.

Quickly, the billionaire disinfected the wound with a distanced appearance suited for an experienced doctor, and stitched the wound back together, and then applied the thickest gauze he owned around the unconscious Scaeth's abdomen with practiced hands until he had used the entire roll of the medical product.

Exhaling with furrowed eyebrows, Vlad took a step back from the fierce blue blood bath for a moment to look at the injured enigma in front of him. The teen had regained a shade of color, and even with the slightly vein-blue undertones of his skin he seemed to look slightly less… dead. If Vlad was honest with himself, he would say that the child looked almost ethereal and otherworldly with his hair darker than a raven's wing and flesh lighter than porcelain. If the older man had not seen the injured convict utterly destroy that Ancient guard earlier, the word delicate may have even passed through his head-

"Eueeruehg…"

Vlad jumped back at the sudden movement on the bed with navy eyes wide as he looked at the blood encrusted teen survey the situation he was lying in. Scaeth swept his flashing eyes across the room once and with a look at his bare chest, the teenager blinked with an astonished countenance at the man across from him. A single word was all the weakened teen managed to force out of his mouth before his eyelids drooped and he crashed back down to the bed.

"Oh."

So... What do you guys think? I tried to get another chapter out faster than usual, because I was excused from all of my finals. So, I hope you all enjoyed it!

PLEASE review!

kirby