Disclaimer: I still don't own Danny Phantom. Butch Hartman does, and I somehow doubt that will be changing any time soon. Since I'm not making any money from this, there is nothing for the law-ninjas to sue out of me.

Author's Note:See? You guys know I won't leave you hanging for more than a week or two, right? This chapter was a blast to write, I suspect you guys will be able to pick out my favorite line of dialogue in it. As always, reviews are appreciated! Now I'm gonna go hide in the bunker again.

Chapter 3: Fracture

"Crying alone at night your destiny unknown

You're every being full of rage and hate

Seems like you're running but you just can not hide

You close your eyes and visualize the day you'll get away"

-"Disciples of Babylon" - Dragonforce

"How disappointing." He glared down at the building below before turning that disturbing red-eyed gaze to Valerie. "With all the noise he made about his little promises, I thought he'd put up more of a fight."

Valerie repressed the urge to shudder. She had no love for the ghost kid, but this specter was in an entirely different league. She couldn't think of a single time where the ghost kid was actively causing damage. This spook seemed to absolutely delight in it, the very picture of an evil ghost. There was nothing sympathetic about the tall, flame-headed figure. This was pure, absolute malevolence; cruelty given form. And the ghost kid who routinely had bested her had just been smacked down as though he were merely an annoying fly.

You better not be done for, ghost. I'm the one who's gonna take you down. She thought, though honestly she was hoping the lean form of her rival would shoot up from the Fentons' house and give her some backup against this mutual enemy. Where were the Fentons, anyway? If they were home, there was simply no way for them to not notice the ghost kid slamming into their roof and putting in a new skylight.

"I suppose that just shows what his stupid promises are worth, doesn't it?" Her opponent shrugged carelessly, licking his lips as he regarded her with a wicked smile. "So, Valerie, shall we dance?"

The sick glee in the ghost's voice did make Valerie shiver involuntarily. She'd seen already what this guy was capable of, and though she was ready and willing to fight, she had to admit that the odds were not in her favor. She risked a glance down at Danny's house, not willing to admit it but hoping fervently that the ghost kid was all right and would be rejoining the battle soon. She wouldn't run, but the thought of taking on this ghost alone was not one that got her excited like fighting the ghost boy usually did.

She took a deep breath and put a bold face on her uncertainty, taking aim with her remote weapons. "Sorry, you're not my type, spook."

He chuckled, a green orb hovering in the air above one palm. "You couldn't do anything to me for the past ten years, there's not a thing you can do to me now."

Ten years? This was the first time she'd met this ghost! What the heck was he blathering about? She'd only been fighting ghosts for little more than half a year now, where in the world was the spook getting ten years from?

Okay, so he's not just a violent ghost, he's a crazy one. Valerie wasted no more time on bantering with the spook, instead launching a pink volley, the beams whizzing over her shoulders. She still wasn't entirely certain how everything in her new suit worked, but she wasn't going to argue with being able to aim and fire multiple weapons with just a thought. Some of the blasts clipped the tall ghost, but from her vantage, Valerie wasn't sure if the impacts did anything but shove him back slightly. He certainly didn't look terribly fazed from the beams, he still had his attack primed and ready to send flying.

"Child's play. Honestly Valerie, don't you have anything better?" The ghost yawned mockingly, launching his attack; the little green sphere bristled with destructive power as it arced through the air between the two.

Too fast to avoid it-! Even as she thought the phrase, the huntress stomped a foot switch on her jet sled. Just in time the sleek device slipped backward, presenting the bottom of the board and a bright pink energy shield to the incoming attack.

"Whoa-!" Valerie yelped when the impact sent her flying wildly backward, the green blast deflected off the shield and detonating with a nearly blinding flash a few hundred feet away.

It took Valerie a long moment to regain control of her trajectory, though she was thankfully unhurt from the blast. A quick glance at the ghost made the huntress shiver again. His previous psychotic glee was gone, replaced now with an intense frown, red eyes narrowed angrily. She had no idea why, but she knew this went beyond superficial anger. She was staring down absolute burning hatred, and she had no idea why this ghost hated her so. Sure, she hunted ghosts; but such a simple thing didn't seem to be the reason the ghost so visibly despised her. This was more personal. The ghost seemed to be naturally angry and cruel, but he seemed to harbor some personal grudge that she was somehow responsible for.

"What, surprised?" Valerie spat, clicking another switch on her sled. "I don't know who you think you are, ghost, but you picked the wrong ghost hunter to mess with!"

The taunt seemed to amuse the ghost, for he cracked a slight smile, lip lifted into just enough of a sneer to reveal one of those fangs. "You really think you stand a chance, don't you? You don't have a chance, Valerie. You never did and you never will."

The ghost leapt forward, rapidly closing the distance between Valerie and himself. Valerie stood her ground, simply angling her sled just a little bit so that it was facing the spook head-on, red lights in the forward portion momentarily obscured. So what that the ghost knew her somehow? He clearly didn't know a thing about her new equipment.

The fire-headed spook yowled, both hands clutching at his scorched face when he flew face-first into the large pink beam the sled spat at him, sending him reeling. Valerie didn't waste the chance, flying out of the ghost's direct line of fire and pumping round of round of pink blasts into him. The huntress' confident smirk dropped a notch when the ghost hissed something unintelligible about being shot in the face, and then suddenly there were four of him.

"You'll pay for that." All four snarled in perfect unison.

---

Jazz was used to things going bump in the night (or any time of the day, really) at her house. Bump and more often than not bang and boom, depending on what crazy device her parents were working on at any given time. However the deafening crash from the ops center was a new one. She knew something was going on, her parents had gone charging out of the house armed to the teeth not long ago, and she'd been hearing the distant reports of explosions. She had been watching the news, slackjawed at the carnage and hoping desperately that her brother was all right.

What was that? Jazz pondered as she pounded up the stairs to the ops center, already suited up in the Fenton Peeler's armor. If the fighting was close to FentonWorks, maybe she could give her brother a little help against that nightmare figure. From what she'd already seen on the news, footage blurry from the distance between the camera and the action, Danny would need all the help he could get!

"Freeze, I know how to-" She skidded to a halt in the doorway, weapon primed and ready. "-Danny!"

The noise outside momentarily forgotten, Jazz quickly disengaged the Peeler and ran to her brother's side, taking stock of the situation. Danny wasn't in ghost form, but judging from the extent of his injuries, Jazz surmised that he must have changed back after crashing through the roof. He seemed to be unconscious, and while not sporting any serious injuries that the redhead could see, Danny was covered in scratches and bruises, with a scattering of minor burns thrown in for good measure.

"Danny, are you all right?" Jazz carefully disentangled Danny from the wreckage of the unplanned skylight. "Come on, you've got to wake up!"

From the sounds of things, somebody was still fighting outside, and Jazz cast a worried glance at the hole in the ceiling. So somebody was stalling for time, how long would they last? What if Danny didn't wake up in time to rejoin the fight? Jazz shivered at the thought of what might happen if that crazed ghost was left unopposed. She still all-too-clearly remembered her own brief showdown with Danny's alternate future the night before the C.A.T.

Danny still didn't stir, despite Jazz gently shaking him and calling his name. The house rumbled from a nearby explosion, the ops center creaking ominously from the abuse. Jazz yelped and shielded her younger brother, wincing when some stray debris from the hole in the roof hit her exposed back. That's going to leave a bruise.

Jazz wasn't certain if what followed on the heels of the blast was better or worse than the cacophony that preceeded it.

Silence.

---

It really was only a matter of time before Valerie's feeble resistance ended. He had her overpowered by a ridiculous margin even without duplicating himself. That she'd lasted as long as she did against four of him was surprising. It had taken some work to corral the huntress long enough to slam her into a wall, but he knew as he watched her slide to the ground in an unmoving heap that she was finally unconscious.

He floated to the ground a few feet away from the house, watching as Valerie's battle suit disappeared. Where previously had been the mighty ghost huntress, now there was only a dark girl sprawled on the sidewalk. There would be no ten years of resistance here, no giant anti-ghost shield to thwart him.

"First you, then the rest of the past are as good as gone." He declared with a smile, a green blast flickering into being in his hand. "In fact, this works rather nicely, don't you think? I'll be rid of you, my weakness, and your future base of operations all in one shot."

It felt unbelievably good to give voice to that sentiment. Ten years of destroying a past that reminded him endlessly of his weakness, and here in this alien reality, he would be finally able to achieve that goal. All he had to do was waste Valerie and FentonWorks in one massive blast. He heard footsteps pounding down the sidewalk, but ignored the sound as he prepared to sling the blast. It would be enough to level an entire city block at the least. There wouldn't be anything left when he was done.

"No, don't!"

He very nearly yelped in surprise when Sam charged in between him and his target, standing with arms spread as if the raven-haired goth alone could protect the fallen girl and the building behind her. What did the short girl think she could do? He saw she had a thermos slung across her back, but in the time it would take her to bring the device to bear, he could easily vaporize it and her. Why was this specter of his past getting in his way now?

He stared at her, blast still held ready, but she refused to budge. Indeed, Sam matched his scowl with a determined glare of her own. Was the girl not afraid for her life? By getting in the way, she was only accelerating her own demise, and for what? Buying Valerie, a girl she disliked a few more seconds of existence?

"What do you think you're doing?" He finally inquired, the first to break the staring match.

"What do you think?" Sam snapped. "Are you really going to go through with this?"

"Of course I am." He hissed, knowing even as he said it that getting into an argument with the girl was a waste of time. Yet... why couldn't she understand? Everything here was so wrong, she was supposed to be dead! "I have to put everything the way it's supposed to be."

"'Supposed to be'? Supposed to be!" Sam bristled, ever so briefly reminding him of a very angry cat. "Did it ever occur to you that this is the way things are supposed to be?"

He had forgotten over the years just how intense his friend could be when her temper went off. From the looks of things, he'd managed to really set Sam off, the girl's entire stance radiating something between worry and rage, but no fear. She wasn't one to show fear, never at all except for the most dire of situations. He had figured his appearance and sheer power ought to have qualified, but apparently this was not the case.

"You're supposed to be dead." He snarled at her, aiming the energy blast. Why wasn't she so much as flinching? She'd seen the future, she had to know what was supposed to happen!

"Who cares that's what's supposed to happen?" Sam spat, standing her ground. "You don't really want to kill all your friends and family."

"It's not about what I want!" He shouted. Sam was managing to hit all the wrong nerves, it wasn't like him to lose his cool like this.

"Then what is it about, Danny?" Sam's expression didn't change, but her tone softened, just the barest bit. The name alone made him stop dead in his tracks, blast fizzing out unused. He hadn't been called that in over a decade. Well, not counting that brief period where he was disguised as his weakness, but that almost normal afternoon of 'playing video games and raging against the machine' didn't count. No one had known it was him.

"Stop trying to play games with me." He hissed, fist glowing again and aimed at Sam. "And die!"

When the blast cleared- it had been surprisingly small, given what he was capable of- Sam still stood, shielding her face. Her hair was slightly messed up from the shockwave, her outfit lightly scorched; but she was basically unharmed. The asphalt just in front of her was blasted out, a miniature crater, but he hadn't shot her. He gaped for a full minute as the realization hit that Sam was not dead despite his threats. It took her about as long to realize she hadn't been blasted and to lower her arms.

"You-" She squeaked, pausing briefly and resuming her previous confident stance, though her voice carried a clear tone of disbelief. "... You couldn't do it, could you?"

"I'll take care of you when I blast the building." He retorted, though he had yet to start forming a second blast. It bothered him a great deal. He was powerful, he had no need or use for weaknesses like her, or stupid, wasteful sentiments like friendship. Why had he missed? He'd shown that same sort of reluctance in his previous attempt at trying to make sure things went the way they were supposed to; he'd had ample opportunity to kill Jazz before, yet just like this time, he hadn't been able to follow through.

He saw Valerie, the girl still unconscious and battered a few feet behind Sam. The sight of her rekindled his anger, the desire to see her blood spilled suddenly a lifeline that he clung to. Focus on that heartless little witch, forget Sam. She's as good as dead anyway.

"I don't think you can." Sam countered, glancing up at the ops center, an expression of worry flitting ever so briefly across her face. She was stalling for time, a wasted effort at best. He realized Tucker had joined the fray, the techno-geek was standing behind Sam, and checking Valerie over. All of them, and all in a single blast...

"Oh?" He sneered at her, putting on the cold act to cover his lapse. "And what makes you think I can't blast you all into absolute oblivion?"

"Because..." Sam frowned in brief thought, straightening and looking him straight in the eyes, her determined stare terribly unnerving. Apparently inspiration had struck, and the shrewd goth was not going to let it slip by. "Because no matter what happened to you in the future, you still know it's wrong. No matter what freaky messed up things happened to you thanks to Vlad Masters... despite all that, deep down under all the angry 'kill everything' attitude... you're still Danny!"

---

"Danny!"

He groaned as he swam back to consciousness, at first only aware of the fact he ached all over. In a moment his memory returned and he snapped alert with a yelp, only to find Jazz kneeling over him, her hands on his shoulders and a worried look on her face.

"Jazz?" He shook his head briefly, dispelling his previous daze. "What happened? Where is he?"

"You fell through the roof." Jazz's tone, and the daylight coming in through the hole in the ceiling confirmed that she meant he fell through the roof, not through the roof intangible. "I heard more fighting outside, and then shouting-"

She stopped mid-sentence as Danny leapt to his feet, transforming as he did so, abruptly-green eyes sweeping the ops center for something, anything useful. His parents' gadgetry had saved the day the last time, it was apparent now that he would need whatever technological aid he could get his hands on. The voices drifting into the ops center from outside made the half-ghost stop in his tracks, a look of horror on his face.

"Sam! I told her and Tucker to stay put-" His search took a frantic pace at the thought of his friends in danger, his gaze falling on a tall device that had been left in the corner. It was unwieldy at best, and an absolute gamble, but it was worth a shot. There wasn't enough time to dig through everything for the Specter Deflector or the Ghost Gloves, or indeed any other potentially useful gadget. He grabbed it with both hands, launching himself through the wall. "Jazz, find something- anything!- from the lab and use it!"

"Danny-!" Jazz re-activated the Fenton Peeler and ran for the door, taking the stairs two at a time.

From above, the situation seemed more clear. Sam and Tucker were below, confronting the ghost. Valerie was sprawled on the sidewalk, battered and bruised and clearly unconscious but alive, while Tucker looked nearly ready to bolt in fear. Sam stood resolute, in the middle of a staredown with the spook. Danny didn't know what had been said, but clearly his friend had somehow managed to stall his alternate self.

"You think I still care about such sappy sentiments?" The ghost hissed, a blast forming in one hand.

Danny didn't give his actions a moment more of thought. He dove, straight down with his weapon held securely in both hands. He plummeted at a speed for more than gravity alone could account for, a black and white blur of motion.

"Get away from her!" He shouted, voice nearly cracking in his fury as he slammed the webbed Ghostcatcher down over his alternate self's head. The effect was tremendous, Danny crashed to the ground from his sheer momentum and slid to a halt at Sam's feet.

One voice shrieked in agony.

But two forms hit the ground.

Closing Note: I am evil, aren't I? Anyways, thanks to all my readers so far. One, you know I wouldn't be doing this if not for you devil muse action with Jeremiad and Anathema. Thanks also to MuneMune, i AM the Random Idiot, Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet, The Fluff Ghost, CharmedNightSkye, PotterPhan21, BugzAttack, Sasia, and Tornada Silverwind! You guys get cookies! Lots and lots of cookies!

By the way, those of you familiar with my other fics, Jeremiad and Anathema, check THIS out, by musicn0t3s! http/ www. deviantart. com/ deviation/ 40304112/