slight little scene about TUE's Danny's death
also
missed pov from WTPH/7
little clarification: I said before Dan doesn't remember Danny - this, doesn't change on that, over this, here, and another scene that will be later used as a continuation for this little flashback (and there will be a gap between this and that one), the rest is missing, actually this is the last he remembers to 'his' Danny (sorry, I just had to clear this)
(oh, and I think I managed to explain by this why he needed the belt later in WTPH/7, and 'test' that too - as Jazz spotted too later, Dan was freaked out from Danny back then, that he thought he needed to prove himself like that)
"Danny! Is she breathing or not?!" the voice was even harsher than Dan wanted it to be. And much to say, Danny was just refusing to answer a simple question how did he suppose to not lose his patience and temper? And either… he really didn't mean to lash out at his younger version, not like that, knowing the boy hadn't yet got any clearance about him, about his not necessarily harmful intentions here, but the teen was just so unreachable to hear his words…
Dan pressed his eyes closed, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down, the least he wanted right now was Danny to freak out from him and yeah, this whole with Jazz now wasn't helping at all… and the more seconds passed the more it grew an itching urge to just blast the young half-ghost out of the way and- God, was he really thinking like Danny Phantom? To that thought, he rather returned to the current needed-to-be-solved-somehow problem.
The sight of the boy on the other hand was like nothing that could ease on this all… It completely paralysed him on the spot: the shivering, petrified body, clenching on his sister with the frightened face and horrified blue eyes that a moment ago had been ready to any attack, glowing green, willing to protect the world or anything from him again if that was needed, but now… that previously determined, loathing gaze was just mirroring shock now, hopefulness and unmistakably fear…
"Shit." he really didn't mean to- it just- it just slipped out… Dan clenched in his fist, on to somehow oppressing the throbbing in his mind, and getting over the look of the teenager now so much clinging on anything against him and- "I didn't- I didn't mean to-" Dan tried to somehow reduce the effect of the accidentally used voice and- damn, he was sure too his true side had broken through the surface, making the boy behaving like this, but- Danny had to- had to understand-
Then as he attempted to give a somewhat reasoning look at the teen, it just became clear… the same dread within the same bright eyes, staring at him, expecting the worse, like-
"P-Phantom?" a vaguely loud enough stutter spilt about sudden puzzlement with a slight little confusion, a bit unsure about the identity. Then the inquiring turned into shock, putting together the sight: that naturally was supposed to belong inside was now out. The recognition nearly bulged out the eyes, making the dim vision widen and leave behind the numbness of the previously taken in gas. The dark circles under them gave a grave contrast to the bright colour in them, dilating in fear. It was like a painful kick in the gut, not like seeing a creation of someone, growing something inside and then face with it like a mother would have realised her child, no, rather on the contrary. The look equalled with like witnessing the manifestation of a nightmare that was loathed, feared and- rejected.
A gloved hand curiously neared the body, that tried to move back as much as it could, telling without any word 'away, away, from this, whatever this was…', but it didn't stop. No, because it was so weird, and- eerie, definitely eerie. The head tilted in bemusement, observing and eyeing the almost spottable mimics on the pale face: the flinch, the horror and cold sweated identification. It was so ugly, wrecked by the loss of weight during the past time, almost grey, like an old forgotten paper…
A soft thump froze the backing as the wall was hit, blocking the further way entirely. The body lost the colour in a flash, inducing a shaking gasp to escape the lungs. "Vlad…" the blue eyes peeked towards a direction somewhere behind, searching for a backup, or just for a bit of advice on what to do, but then with a defeated swallow, turned back with hopeless shading and goosebumps on the skin.
The raised-up fingers got closer to the uncomfortably moving body, to get an explanation, or just- It was so odd, so empty, so- hollow. The figure froze in the approaching motion, clinging on the only surface that could give momentarily the only hold, and at the same time a trap too. One could say the clear panic was smellable in the air, but it could have been told it was the remained sour aftertaste of the sleeping gas, still stuck at the back of the tongue. It was like acid, metal and overall dry, without anything to somehow overwrite it. An attempted gulp to suppress it somehow failed in the lack of absorbable air. The mouth instead parted, unaware followed by a hiss, tongue dancing around in the air.
The trembling body took aback by it, causing a bump of the back of the head as it met with the wall. The gloved fingers reached out, catching a grip at the nearest part to cease the annoying wiggling of the other. A hand massaged the soring spot, but then turned towards the unexpected clench. The whole figure petrified, making the rising of the chest uneven, dread of the outcome. It took almost an entire moment to step over the bafflement, but then as the hand, still kept on the top of the head, was slowly descending, the hold tightened as if demanding without any words not to move further.
Eyes followed narrowly the action, as the hand returned to the side, then the bright vision gazed ahead, uncertain what to do next. "It's…" was it started lamely, but a gloved finger slipped lower, maintaining a stronger grip, pressing against the skin in a reachable, softer spot. "O-okay…"
There was a silent second, but enough long to perceive there was no mirroring, no attachment, nor connection. The other, under the slight squeeze, was behaving independently, and- brows furrowed, there had to be an explanation, or- or it was just an illusion, like when… the fingertip turned into a sharper ending, digging deeper examining the reaction to it. Beyond the rigid posture and the wincing under it, nothing changed. Maybe it wasn't enough? There had to be a response to it somehow, anyhow…
Now it pierced into further, on to reach the edge on the boundary that blocked away everything to sense, an obstacle that had to be breach through… "S-stop…" a voice whimpered, "it- it hurts…"
The word hit, numbly though, but more harshly. Hurt... The vision that until this time was focused on the penetration, snapped to the pale face, catching wetness on the cheeks, something making foggy the earlier lively shining of the bright blue colour. The realisation triggered a stunned bit of floating away, as the dark-haired head bent ahead, taking a hard relieved breath and after a long second the figure opened the eyes and turned to take a look at the sore point, horrified by the oozing out crimson.
There had to be an explanation, there had to- but… the vision after a minute shifted from the shoulder to a blank staring ahead, catching an eye-contact, as if questioning the previous deed, but- it hurt, it was supposed to be- it was admitted too- but at the same time… it didn't? But that couldn't be…
"Phantom…" reached out a hand, with a shivering outline, due to the former tormenting, affecting the concentration to be able to do such simply gesture steadily, otherwise it was accompanied by true concern in the voice, trying to get through the swirling mess in the mind. There was an aim, a want to- to end this apathy and- but… There were tears a moment ago, and still running down on the face, as an obvious sign of emotions that hadn't been there for a while, not even when those would been needed to be there the most, and- so that… but-
Phantom… the name sounded alien, echoing in a deep void, without any owner to it, because Phantom was- Phantom was something that never should have been and that caused everything, that just made everything worse and- so then- but… The eyes fell on the fingers, gloved, then immediately caught to the other's, clenching on the injury that hurt. But- but that… thoughts were racing after each other but it was just futile, the explanation stubbornly stayed in the darkness, laughing on the attempt to understand and…
"Oh, my goodness…" an awestruck whispered cut in the dizzying chaos. The earlier extended forward hand was now touching something, running almost apologizingly fingers over it, whatever that was. Then the eyes followed the figure's, coming to see the reason for the bewilderment: faint green was leaking out from many dots around the once beloved, nearly sacred emblem. The first question was why, formed by the sight, but then, recalling the reaction from a sort-of similar wound, it turned into a how.
The chest of the other was plain, without any identical violation, and either… Then it hit, fiercely, assembling the truth: Independent. Ripped out. On to get removed. A faulty piece that just ruined everything that had to be get rid of, no matter what! Eyes flashed up angrily, swirling by turmoil, flaring up by- by hurt… It was supposed to work! It was supposed to- supposed to belong to him! But- him? Who was at all-
The hand that gently was touching the chest, now jerked back, recoiled, scared by a sight, telling without any needed word the clarification: it not him, and that something- something was wrong. Was it because it should have been thrown into a dustbin, letting to fade away to cease to exist and- No!
The movement was too quick, shoving back the figure back to the vertical surface, palm kept strong on the intact chest, making the other unable to move or act or just- breathe… The quickened panting paused the thoughts, then as it set together what it meant (the possession of it, and the absence of it), turned it into a snarl, threatening the trying to find a way out squirming to complete petrification.
"I- I didn't mean to-" but the voice meant nothing just a pathetic excuse, making the fingers over the crazy throbbing shifted into sharp endings, seizing on the middle, hard, with pulsating pressure by the lit-up glowing greenness… A slow movement got the other's attention, sparking up brightly the struggling, terrified look with hope under the unescapable capture. "Vlad… help!"
The fingers clawed at deeper to the words, and to the louder, nearing moving, telling 'mine! this belongs to me! mine!'. But then with a hitch, the man shocked screamed out "Danny!", arriving already late, merged into an echoing and fading, but never forgotten shriek, always staying unconsciously in any memories and-
The bright gaze with clear terror was staring at him, not even daring to blink. It was a moment ago the glowing green, ready for any action, that was needed to take, but right now…
It took almost a whole eternity to the present to see, and the so identical picture to slip back to the locked part of the mind, but then as the fingers clenched on the unconscious body, hanging on it, protecting it against anything else…
His brows furrowed, confused by the sight of the familiar red hair. Jazz? But she was supposed to be… But then, it came together, clustering again, separating the past from the current situation. Dan swallowed, attempting to avoid looking at the slightly trembling hands over the girl's fainted body, so much reminding to the other Danny...
"I just- I…" he started, but then the whole formed again, accompanied by the recent events, not from long ago, and for why exactly he was seeing Danny in front of him and- damn, he was on to prove them he was no threat and- "Shit." Dan recognised, blowing out a harsh breath, to at least leave behind everything that happened once. And he really should have done it too, to just focus on what was now, and- "Just tell me she is breathing, okay?" he asked the half-ghost, adding then, "Please." as he took a short step away – not that the boy would have realised it over the dread that fell over the sane thoughts, clouding everything over the constant alert against- well, against him – but he had to tell Danny, here, somehow, he wasn't- that he wasn't on to hurt anyone. Well, knowing himself, not right now at least, no…