For the Phic Phight. Prompt by blueoatmeal: Fracture: At his creation, he was a fusion of two mismatched halves. Now, Dark Danny (Dan Phantom) is split into two pieces again.
Warnings for suicide mention, mention of blood, general TUE timeline awefullness
This took me so long to finish but I'm done. I've actually really wanted to write something like this for a while. It's also inspired by this tumblr post. post/643322714255474688/dp-marvel94-all-out-disney
When he had first been created, it was painful. The combination of two mismatched parts, two fractured pieces that never should have come together to form a whole. In the beginning, Phantom and Plasmius had fought against each other. Everything had been confusion and pain. So much information, so many memories and sensations clashing together. The two had nearly fallen apart at the start. But the thing holding them together? Anger.
Kill it! Kill the brat!
No! No! The new being's hands held their head while it screamed.
Weak! It was his fault! In his head, one voice screamed. His fault they're gone.
His fault? The other voice asked, the words echoing in their head.
An enraged hiss. His fault! His fault!
They're gone.
Gone! He threw us away!
A fresh memory. Being ripped out of his body, his souls being pulled apart. Oozing, bleeding. A pain in his inmost being.
He threw us away...But...
In front of the lanky, blue skinned ghost, a blue-eyed boy trembled. Danny's human half whimpered. "Please! Stay away!"
Quick! Do it now! In the air, the new ghost twitched, hunched over in pain.
But...I don't want to-
He didn't want us. Didn't want us. Pain. Pain. His fault.
That licked at their anger. He didn't want me. A growl. This was supposed to fix things, supposed to make the pain go away.
It's his fault.
The human pressed up against the wall, his breath quickening. "No. This is wrong. This is wrong."
"This is your fault." The new being hissed, his voice a sick, twisted echo of the human's.
Danny shook, eyes widening. "No. I didn't...I didn't want this."
I didn't want this. One voice echoed the human's words.
Kill him! Before he destroys us!
Shakily, one hand lit with an ectoblast. Their eyes widened with terror even as a wicked grin stretched across their face.
No! I don't-
The being shot the blast anyway. Danny screamed as the energy burned him. He scrambled to get away, his hands reaching for something to protect himself with. He grabbed a green and silver device and jabbed it at the ghost.
The flaming-haired figure growled in pain. It hurt. Everything hurt. It wasn't supposed to hurt anymore.
Make the pain go away. Destroy the weakness.
Weakness. The part of them that was, that had been Phantom, remembered. Pain. Too weak, too slow, too stupid to save them. Curled on his bed, crying until he couldn't breath. Wishing he could just die. There'll be no pain if he's dead.
Die then. The part that was Plasmuis, remembered. His phone dropped out of his numb gripp. He never got his revenge, never got Maddie as his bride. Listening to Daniel weep, the boy broken, withering away. Pathetic, weak.
Anger surged at the sight in front of them, worsened by the pain of the attack. The new ghost lunged, red hot rage coalescing the battling thoughts into a single line, a single drive.
Make the pain go away.
The human Danny never had a chance.
The new ghost settled, smoothing out into something like one being. He grew in power and ability. He didn't worry about things like names. Everyone who really knew where he'd come from was dead. As was his past. His past didn't matter. (But it did. It did. It still hurt so much. He still missed his parents. His dear Maddie, the oaf Jack. Sam and Tucker. Daniel's little friends. His sister. Jasmine.)
No, that didn't matter. None of it mattered. None. All there was, all that matter was his work. He had important work to do. He needed to amass more power so he could take what he wanted, do what he wanted. And what he wanted? For the pain to go away, at a global, no, a universal scale. No one would hurt if they all were dead.
He was never supposed to exist. Really all things considered, he shouldn't. He was two fragments clinging to each other. (But...that gap, that hole it was still there. It was still there. He shouldn't have killed Danny Fenton. He missed...he missed Danny. He missed being Danny). He was better without those weak human halves (Lie.) He was never supposed to exist and yet...here he was. And he would do what he needed to.
Years passed. The new ghost, called The Dark Phantom or just Phantom by his enemies and victims, (The name sickened him.) raged. He killed and maimed and destroyed. Ghosts were warped by his hand. Blood was spilled. The world was ravaged. He tried to destroy humanity but they were resilient. (He should stop. He needed to stop. He didn't want this.)
He started collecting objects of power. The crown of fire. The ring of rage. He destroyed the Ghost King. The Infinite Realms were under his thumb.
And then...he discovered the Reality Gauntlet.
The Dark Phantom floated over the ravaged battlefield. Builds crumbled around him, the smell of smoke and fresh spilled blood filling his nose. He grinned wickedly, clutching his prize in his hands. The humans had fought to keep it from them, they really had. Those idiotic GIW had hid it deep underground years before, their only intelligent action before he'd overpowered them. They'd destroyed all physical and digital records of it.
But he'd found it. He'd found the Reality Gauntlet anyway, killing and destroying anyone and anything in his path. Even now, his greatest human enemy, Valerie Gray the Ghost Slayer, laid dead at his feet. Even she'd fallen in the futile attempt to keep ultimate power out of his she'd failed. They all had failed. And now he held the glove in his gasp.
The ghost laughed evilly. And now he could have anything, anything at all he wanted. He floated higher, looking towards something at the horizon at the green glow of a ghost shield. Within that barrier laid Amity Park, the last resistance, humanities' last stronghold. And now he could destroy it. One thought and he could destroy everything.
The ghost flew closer, coming to stop at a hill overlooking the city. It was a rare bare area, free of the usual twisted metal and broken concrete of apocalyptic landscape. Instead, there was just knee length grass. He landed and slid the glove onto his right hand.
Now, how did he want to do this? How did he want to destroy this thorn in his side? Fire? Nuclear explosion? Maybe he should freeze it solid? Not that was stupid. Asteroid impact? Suck it into a black hole? Maybe he should just suck the whole planet into a black hole. The ghost tapped his chin. He had always wondered what that would be like. What did a black hole actually look like in person? What would it be like to fall into one? What would it feel like? Would you really sit at the event horizon and watch all of time for the rest of the universe pass in the eternal moment before you were ripped apart?
The Dark Phantom shivered. There was the space nerdiness again. It did love to rear its head at the strangest moments. He shook his head. He needed to focus on how he would destroy his hometown. The place where he'd grown up, where he'd learned to ride a bike and meet his friends. Where he'd watched the stars and gone to high school and where he'd died the first time. Where his friends and family had died.
The images flashed in his mind and the ghost pinched his eyes closed. A fiery explosion, concrete and metal, his pounding heart as he stood intangible in the middle of the wreckage. (He should have died with them.) Numb, sitting with the paramedics. Shock, they said. It was weeks before he spoke again. Standing in the rain, the two half ghosts together. Danny hadn't even had the energy to flinch away when Vlad had put his hand on his shoulder, smuggly smiling down at the boy. Staring at the grave. Graves that were on the other side of the shield.
The ghost shivered, pushing the images away. No, stop that. Stop that. He would destroy them. He'd destroy the graves and the city. The plants that Sam loved so much, all the technology that Tucker tinkered with. Every single last book that his sister, Jasmine, studied. Every, single damn blasted ghost that his parents, his dear friends, were obsessed with. He'd destroy all of it, all of it damn it. He pressed the Gaunlet's gems in sequence. He'd never have to look at their graves, remember any painful memory ever again.
The Dark Phantom pressed his will into the gems. With his eyes closed, his fractured soul poured its deepest desire into the glove. Power surged out of the Gauntlet, the smell of ozone burning the air. The ghost braced himself. It would happen any second now, the one thing he wanted. It would be his and all of this would be over. But...there was nothing. No heat, no cold, no explosion, no screaming, no crying. Nothing.
Instead, there were five soft thumps in front of him and one behind him. The ghost didn't dare look yet. Then finally, after what felt like forever, there was a gasp. The ghost opened his eyes and his jaw dropped. There in front of him were five people. Each was sitting on the ground, rubbing their heads. None were looking at him yet. But his eyes flickered between the figures.
This couldn't….this couldn't be. It couldn't...He knew...No...He didn't….he didn't. They couldn't be...these weren't….but….
Sam? Tucker? He wanted to ask, but the words choked him. He glanced between the two. Sam, who was staring angrily at the ruined environment. Tucker, who was taking his glasses on and off, as if that would change what he was seeing.
But the image didn't change, no matter how many times the ghost blinked. Here they were. They were really here, right in front of him. His (Daniel's little) best friends. These two who'd been with him through it all. Through tests and projects and long days at the arcade and the waterpark. Through the accident. Through the power malfunctions and the late night ghost fighting. (No, he's been alone. His friends had left him in that hospital to rot.) Through injuries and secrets and-
"Madds? Where are we?" Dad's (Jack's) cut through.
The ghost's eyes widened. It was his Dad. His Dad! The man who read him bedtime stories and chased away the 'ghosts' in the closet and hugged him close when he was scared. (That oaf always ate all the food he'd bought from himself! He made a mess of the dormroom.)
The ghost whined, clenching his head. It ached with the contradictions. Happiness, relief, pure joy, the love of a child for their parents. Dad had taught him how to tie a tie and had driven him to the movies and took him stargazing. Anger, Hatred, The Longing for vengeance. (He stole the love of his life! He couldn't obey the most basic laboratory safety!)
"I don't know." Mom's (Maddie's) voice cut through. She rapidly looked side to side, eyes widening with fear. "How did we get here?"
His Mom, his core sang. His mom. The woman who'd kissed his bo-bos and made him cookies and taught him self defense and took him out for milkshakes. (The most beautiful woman he'd ever laid his eyes on.)
Head throbbing, the ghost doubled over, feeling sick. No. NO! That was wrong. This was wrong. No.
"Ghost!" Dad (the oaf) suddenly yelled.
The sound of feet stomping towards him. "You! Do you bring us here, ghost?"
The ghost looked up, shakingly meeting the woman's (beautiful) purple eyes. "Yes...no...I..I.." His insides churned, painfully as he shrunk back from her angry glare. This was his mom. She was supposed to be happy to see him. He'd brought her back. Now he could finally steal her from Jack. The ghost growled. "Shut up."
"What did you say to me?!" Mom glared, pulling an ectogun from her holster.
"Mo-addie." The ghost cried, his quickly fragmenting mind switching between the two names. He stumbled backwards as Sam and Tucker finally seemed to notice the adults.
"Mrs. F!" Tucker exclaimed.
"Mr. Fenton!" Sam shakily stood up, rushing to the man.
"Sam. Tuck." The ghost whispered. He was shaking, his knees knocking together. It hurt. His insides hurt. This was...he was wrong. This wasn't...he wasn't...this didn't….
Mom...Maddie...Mom continued pointing the gun at him. "Where are we?"
He groaned, falling to his knees. The flame of his hair flickered erratically.
In front of him, Jack...Dad...Jack...had run to the still unconscious Jazz. He shook her roughly and the girl groaned. Sam and Tucker found the pair, helping the older teen sit up.
"Who are you?" Mom spat out.
Who? Who...he didn't….
Jazz blinked, taking in her surroundings. She then turned to the side, her eyes falling on his. Her gaze flickered to the emblem on his chest. Her mouth feels open. "Danny?" She whispered.
His mind stopped. Danny? That was (not) his name. Or it had been. (No it wasn't). It had been his name. No. He...he missed...he missed that name. (That brat, that fool, pathetic). The ghost whined, his insides revolting. His eyes flickered. Red. Green. Red. Green. The black and white on his suit swirled, shifted.
"Danny." Jazz repeated, more certain.
The ghost nodded. Then he shook his head. Yes. No. Both. Neither. Both….Yes...No...
"What...what's happening to him?" Tucker asked fearfully.
What was happening?! What was happening?! He wrapped his arms around his middle as if that could hold him together. Maybe….no…
"Never mind that!" Sam hissed. "What happened to us? How did we get here?"
"The last thing I remember is…." Jazz's eyes widened with shock and pain. "We...we..all of us, we…."
"You all died." A voice, a new voice behind him, whispered.
The ghost tensed, stiffening. He shook torn between wanting desperately to look and being terrified (disgusted) with what he'd see because-
"You all...you all died." The young male voice choked out again.
That voice, it was so familiar. It was...it was...Rapidly, Jazz, Sam, and Tucker looked between the ghost and the figure standing behind him.
Shakily, Jazz stood, her eyes focusing on the speaker behind the ghost. "Danny?" Her eyes flickered to Dark Phantom (?) again. "You're both…. How are you…?" She stuttered, unable to ask the vital question.
But the ghost knew what she was asking. He knew who was behind him but-
"Jazz." Feet shuffled towards him. "You're...you're alive. You're all alive." A whisper. "I'm...I'm alive."
The ghost felt a sensation, so similar, almost like a heart skipping a beat. Shakily, he started to turn.
It made sense, in a strange way, for him to have brought back his friends and family (but why would he care about Daniel's little friends or that oaf?) A shake of the head. No, stop that. It did make sense. It did. But bringing HIM back?
Another foot step sounded behind, to his left. The ghost's eyes finally met the speaker's eyes, familiar blue eyes.
Danny, Danny Fenton, identical to the the day he died, stood in front of him. The boy stared at him with a complicated expression. Fear, shock, confusion, awe. It was all there. He blinked, lip twitching. "You….you brought me back."
His core squeezed and pulsed, his form rippling as pain shot through him. Danny Fenton. He'd brought Danny Fenton (himself, his human half; the insolent brat) back to life. Back to life. Because he never should have killed him in the first place. (Why shouldn't he have?) No! He shouldn't have! That was a mistake! A mistake! The pain was supposed to go away when he destroyed his humanity but it did, it didn't!
His whole body was smoking, cracks forming along his skin. The ache had just grown, gap yawning wider. Instead of being whole, complete, he...they...were two fragments clinging together for stability, for survival. He wasn't supposed to exist like this.
Questions, demands were buzzing around him but there was no registering the words. In front of him, Danny was rapidly backing away, eyes widening with fear.
Danny. Daniel. An arrogant hiss. He missed Danny, he missed being Danny. He missed being alive. No he didn't, that was ridiculous.
"No!" A roar, two voices screaming at once.
The being writhed, hastily made connection tearing. They weren't supposed to exist like this. So they didn't.
Phantom and Plasmius broke apart, flying in opposite directions. The younger ghost skidded across the grass before careening to a stop. He curled in on himself, shaking and whining.
Around him, alarmed and confused questions rose in volume but he couldn't hear over the brief sound of someone cackling and the sound of his sobs.
Wait, sobs? When had he started crying? He sniffled, a tear falling down his face. Yep, crying. He was crying. He shook, great emotion overcoming him. Horror, sorrow, grief, guilt. He...he remembered everything, all the horrible things he'd done with Plasmius.
"Danny! Danny! Get away from the ghost!" Mom was yelling.
Sneakered feet approached, a lithe figure falling to his knees in front of Phantom. Warm, peach colored hands reached out, grabbing his arms and pulling him into a seated position.
The emotions intensified, hitting the ghost like a brick wall. A double memory. Killing his human half. Being killed by his ghost half. The first murder of his reign of terror. His botched yet successful suicide. It was excruciating, tearing his soul from both sides.
"I..I…" Phantom gasped, finally meeting the blue eyes through the tears.
"You and Plasmius...you killed me." Fenton said without accusation.
"I...I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Phantom begged. The words didn't cover it at all, the width and depth of his iniquity, of the travesties he'd committed in his insanity.
"I asked you to." Fenton whispered, looking down guiltily. "I wanted to die." He shifted, pulling Phantom towards him. "Oh god. I shouldn't have split us. I shouldn't have done that."
The ghost didn't resist as Fenton wrapped his arms around him. Instead, he clung to the human as if he would disappear. "I shouldn't...I shouldn't have joined Plasmius. I shouldn't have killed you." His core spasmed, again threatening to fracture under the strain. "I shouldn't...oh god I...I destroyed everything."
He could barely comprehend what he and Plasmius had done, all he'd been through. And the guilt wared with other feelings at the edge of his perception. Part of him wanted to be hopeful, happy even if it was so abominably selfish. He'd missed being human, being alive. He missed being Danny Fenton. But…. Danny Fenton was in front of him, his still living soul and body pressed up against his chest. He'd brought himself back to life.
And his friends and family. They were behind him. Sam, Tucker, and Jazz were holding his parents back and offering them cursory explanations. For a brief moment, Phantom wondered; how did Jazz know his secret?
But then the greater issue reared its head. His loved ones didn't know what was going on here. They didn't know the world he'd dragged them into. And now, they didn't need two broken, inconsolable pieces. They needed all of him. They needed Danny.
Phantom breathed, pulling this human self closer as he felt Fenton's agreement. He relaxed, feeling his body become tingling and numb. He let go of tangibly, becoming nothing more than a cloud. He was fog being burned away by the morning light. No, he was a cup of water poured back into the lake he'd come from. He was liquid, spreading out, diffusing into a larger body of water, the newly added molecules indistinguishable from the old. Phantom dissolved.
There was a flash of light. Danny Fenton-Phantom remained frozen on his knees. His arms wrapped around himself as he cried.
This didn't feel like the last time, with the ghost catcher. Then, when he'd finally come back to himself, there had been relief, the feeling of coming home after a long, tiring day. But now, it still hurt. He was home but he didn't belong here, didn't deserve this. He looked up, heart throbbing with love for his family and friends. He didn't deserve them but they needed him.
Shakily, with great effort, Danny pushed himself to his feet. He met his sister's eyes and she ran to him. Finally the two hugged.
"Jazz." He sniffed.
"Little brother." The girl squeezed him.
"I love you so much." He vowed.
The rest approached, his eyes flickering among each person one at a time. "Sam. Tucker." A pause. Finally. "Mom. Dad."
"Danny." Mom's voice rang with a dozen emotions as she joined the hug. "My baby boy."
"I love you. I love you so much. " Danny repeated as his loved ones surrounded him in an embrace. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I love you. I love you guys. I'm sorry. "
The others muttered much the same, assurances of love and apologies. Danny never wanted it to end but it did as the group pulled apart.
His loved ones looked around, faces pale with worry. Finally Tucker asked. "Dude, what happened here?"
"Was it the ghosts?" Dad asked, alarmed.
Danny flinched at the words. Guilty, he looked down.
Sam bit her lip. "Was it Plasmius?"
Somehow, the boy curled in on himself even more. "It was me." He muttered.
Danny paled, bracing himself. He expected horror and disgust. Accusation. Hateful sneers. And he would deserve it, all of it. But instead, the group stared at him in disbelief.
"Dude, there's no way." Tucker started.
"You couldn't have done this." Sam denied, perfectly confident.
"I did. It was me." Danny whined. "You all were gone and I was all alone. And I just...I was so angry." He gnawed on his lip. "And I just wanted to stop hurting but it didn't work and I thought…." He trailed off.
Thinking back, the rationale didn't make sense. He couldn't grasp it, couldn't understand what his, his and Plasmius' motivation had been. The thoughts seemed to slip through his fingers, refusing to stay in his brain. Danny wasn't sure whether or not that was a good thing.
"It couldn't have been just you." Jazz softly said, drawing him out of his thoughts. Her hand gently wrapped around his arm. "We saw what happened with that blue skinned ghost." She whispered, as if this was a tightly kept secret.
Nervously, Danny's eyes flickered to his parents who looked confused and deeply troubled. It was actually surprising that they hadn't pointed the ectogun at him again, not after they apparently saw his ghost and human halves fuse back together. Obviously, his sister or friends explained that to them and they somehow believed it, or were too overwhelmed to really process. But the bigger problem? Everyone saw the fusion of Phantom and Plasmius fall apart. Again, he shivered at the memory of being even a part of that monster.
"So you and Plasmius…." Sam trailed off, nose wrinkling in disgust.
That disgust was justified, the very idea repulsive. But he'd been angry and desperate after the split. He, the Phantom part, had wanted to be stronger. Because if he had been, then maybe everyone wouldn't have died. He'd been so angry at the older half ghost, for all the shit Vlad had put him through. And he'd been in so much pain. Vlad was so cold, so unfeeling. If he could be like that, if he could just be numb and selfish for once-
Danny couldn't bear to say any of that, instead changing the subject. "Plasmius, where did he go?" He looked around, seeing no trace of the other ghost. His brow wrinkled in sudden alarm. "And where's the Gauntlet?"
"Gauntlet?" His mom blinked, brow furrowing at the question.
Jazz frowned. "That glove thing? Plasmius took it, when he flew off."
Danny's heart skipped a beat. He flew off. With the Gauntlet. And he hadn't noticed until now. No one had said anything either. And….the other ghost could do anything with the reality altering item.
Shakily, the half ghost pulled away from his loved ones. "I need to go after him." With a thought, he summoned the rings around his waist. His parents' eyes both widened in alarm while the others looked concerned. He ignored the looks, transforming and floating off the ground.
Danny took an unneeded breath, looking around for any sign of Plasmius in the distance. Which direction would he have gone? The boy frowned, considering. But he didn't know. He'd just have to set off in one direction and hope he could find him and get the Gauntlet back. He looked around, flinching at the destruction. He'd used it to bring his loved ones back but he still needed it to-
Something blue and white appeared on the horizon, rapidly approaching. The half ghost flinched, recognizing the figure. He shifted in the air, floating to stand between his friends and family and the approaching ghost. Taking a fighting stance, Danny balled his fists and lit them with ectoenergy.
Moments later, Plasmius materialized in front of him. "Daniel." He looked down at the boy distastefully. "I see you've managed to pull yourself back together."
The boy frowned. "Yes." He warily eyed the Gauntlet clenched in the other ghost's hands. "What are you gonna do with that?"
The vampiric ghost scowled. He silently floated for a moment, before his form seemed to glitch, flickering like a broken TV. His face briefly scrunched up in pain, nose wrinkling. Then his expression smoothed out, turning into something forcefully neutral. He heavily dropped the glove at Danny's feet. "Fix this."
The boy stared down at the Gauntlet, blinking in confusion. He bent down and grabbed it, tightly holding the object in his hand.
Behind him, Tucker asked. "Why didn't he just use it? Ow! Sam!" Obviously, the girl had elbowed him.
Plasmius said nothing, still scowling while Danny considered. Why didn't the man use it himself? The other ghost's image flickered again, causing him to let out a low hiss of pain.
"You can't." Danny finally said, realization hitting him. "You're too unstable."
It was the other reason their dark version stayed together. Both halves would have faded away, destabilizing into ectoplasm within minutes. And there would have been no solution. Phantom had killed his other half. And Plasmius' was somewhere in Wisconsin, too far away to be of any help now.
"Fix this." The other ghost growled again, looking at something in the distance.
This time, there was a greater weight to the words. It wasn't just a request to be stabilized. It was a demand for more. To clean up the rest of the mess they'd made together.
Danny slipped on the glove. Looking down, he pressed the gems in sequence. Fix this. He needed to fix this. He could fix the damage, heal the people he'd hurt, bring back those who were gone. But…. he remembered his loved ones' haunted expressions. The horror with which they looked around the destitute environment.
The halfa closed his eyes, knowing what he needed to do. He took a breath and pushed his desire into gems. The world went white.
Danny Fenton woke up in his bed, the remnants of a long nightmare in his mind. The boy groaned, burying his face in his pillow.
"Danny!" His mom called through the door. "Get up."
The boy didn't respond, groaning again.
At that, the woman opened the door. "Danny. You have to get up. You're taking the CAT today."
CAT? His brow furrowed at the information. He was taking the CAT. Slowly, the half ghost sat up.
"Good." His mother nodded. "Breakfast is ready downstairs. Go ahead and get dressed."
After she closed the door, Danny stood. He started getting dressed as she said. His brow still furrowed with confusion. His dream. He'd been dreaming about? He couldn't quite remember, except it had been horrible. A sense of dread overcame him. And...he needed to fix something. He had to fix something.
Danny pulled on his shirt. He then turned, grabbing his bookbag. It fell open, revealing a manila envelope. Guilt squeezed his heart. The CAT test answers. He picked up the sheet, stuffing it back inside his bag.
Dread passed through him again, his stomach flopping. He still needed to fix something. But it couldn't just be about his cheating, right? There was something else.
"Danny! Your father's going to eat all the bacon if you don't hurry up." Mom called.
Danny frowned. Whatever it was, he would figure it out and everything would be okay. Right?