WARNING: Will include PTSD, OCs, OOCs, changes in characters' canonical ethnicity and sexuality, violence, memory loss, potentionally inaccurately portrayed science and mental health issues, and torture. This is NOT a torture fic. Torture will only occur in the very first chapters. No OCS will be main characters, don't worry.

—-

He was on fire. His whole body was on fire.

Every inch of his body was consumed by pain. It felt like his whole being was being pulled apart bit-by-bit. The electricity pulsing through his body was mind-numbing. A terrified and pained wail left through his lips, but he was silenced by the cloth bound around by his mouth. Tears flushed down his pale face. He desperately tugged at the restraints holding him down to the table.

"Stop, stop the experiment," a deep male voice ordered, stepping closer to the boy on the table. He was a middle-aged man in a lab coat with a suspicious vibe and the goggles on his eyes hid the menacing look in his eyes. Vlad Masters glared at one of his assistants. "Ms. Felisha, anymore electricity and you'll stop his heart."

Felisha, one of the woman gathered around the subject, flipped off the switch to the electrical machine hooked up to the boy. She took off her goggles, "Sorry," she said without a hint of guilt. She smiled brightly. "I got a bit excited."

Vlad sighed deeply, tiredly turning away from the female scientist. He pressed on the record button in the recorder in his hand. "Give me an analysis."

A man sitting in front of many computer screens turned back to his objects of focus. The vital signs of the subject flashed back at him. "Subject #040403's has a bpm of 147, an above average heartrate, but is to be expected. No abnormalities in brain activity, breathing, or blood circulation," he reported back. "No physical difference, most of all."

Vlad sighed heavily into the recorder, tapping its side absentmindedly. "You know the drill. Collect the DNA samples immediately. Place him in the recovering unit."

Felisha, a very bubbly woman and eccentric scientist, clapped her hands excitedly. "Ooh! I can't wait!" Vlad held out the recorder to her and she quickly swiped it out of his hand to go into a very loud analyzation of their subject.

Vlad turned away from his workers, who were now taking orders from Felisha, and left the room. The card-required door locked loudly behind him. He walked down the hallway of his basement with a proud stride, briefly glancing into each of the door windows the corridor of rooms held.

A door in front of him swung open, bringing the chilling noise of a cardiac monitor flat-lining that echoed across the hallways. A white man in his early thirties stepped out, exasperatedly readjusting the glasses across his thin nose. He wore a lab coat, like the rest of his employees, with a card and identification key hanging on a lanyard around his neck. The man closed the door behind him and it locked in place.

When he spotted his employer only a few feet away, he bowed his head slightly in respect. "Dr. Masters."

Vlad straightened his shoulders, remaining standing tall with his hands clasped behind his back. He gave the scientist a curt nod before he continued walking. "I sure hope that whatever was so urgent as to miss today's experiment was handled, Mr. Johnson."

The man, Johnson, sighed heavily. He followed closely to his employer, almost walking side-by-side with him, but not quite. He was Vlad's most trusted scientist and most brilliant. He was the chief scientist and watched over most of the experiments, subjects, and analyzations.

"Of course it was, Dr. Masters," he said. Vlad paused in front of the elevator doors and Johnson pressed the up button for them. "A subject flat-lined. We weren't able to revive them."

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Johnson swiped his identification card and then pressed the next floor's up button. "My, my, that is quite unfortunate," Vlad hummed, gazing up at the elevator ceiling. "The cause of death?"

"I ordered an autopsy report, but I'm confident it was ecto-radiation from that ecto-acne outbreak," Johnson sighed, clutching the files in his left hand tighter as he rubbed his eyes with his right hand.

A mishandling of one of their subjects with ecto-acne accidentally infected a good number of their other subjects. They were unaware that ecto-acne was airborne, therefor, deadly to anyone within its premises. The incident occurred over three years ago and killed two of their scientists and four of their subjects. Some of them died within a few days of contamination, others were bed-ridden and sickly for years. The subject that had just passed away from it was one of two of their last surviving subjects from the outbreak.

The whole incident was a giant headache and near impossible to cover-up from the police. How were you to hide the sudden deaths of two scientists working under VM Genesis that died of a ghost-related disease that wasn't even supposed to exist?

The elevator slowly came to a stop and opened its doors. Johnson gestured for Vlad to leave first. The chief scientist followed his both down the floor full of offices to the largest one at the end.

Vlad swiped his key on the lock. "Audio recognition?"

He leaned down closer to the lock system. "Vladimir Masters, PHD., and guest."

A green light popped out from the system, scanning the both of them up-and-down before it slowly retracted. "Password."

"Butter biscuits."

"Password confirmation."

The sound of locks unlocking echoing through the empty hallway. It was high-security on this level. They needed it, after all. What they were doing was far from legal, and their research valuable to any who understood its significance.

The door swung open.

Vlad entered his office first and flicked the lights on. He walked to sit behind the large chair behind his desk. His office was covered from head-to-toe in paper, file cabinets, and books about genetics and ghosts.

Johnson shut the door and locked it behind them, quickly taking his seat across the table from his boss. He placed the files in his hands onto the desk.

Vlad reached into his desk and pulled out a pair of reading glasses. He flipped open the top file and began to read its contents. "Subject #031107 went into cardiac arrest at 14:40 military time on June 22nd, 2019. Cardiopulmonary resuscitation was performed on the subject for forty minutes with no success. Subject #031107 passed away at 15:20 military time on the same day. Subject had been suffering from the illness known as ecto-acne since the outbreak in 2016. Subject was coughing up ectoplasm fifteen minutes before cardiac arrest." Vlad's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Autopsy report ordered."

Vlad lowered his reading glasses and looked up at his head scientist. "Was the subject injected with ectoplasm or exposed priorly?"

"No, sir."

"Very interesting," he muttered, stroking his chin, and continuing to read the report. "It appears the ectoplasm was introduced into their body when they were contaminated with ecto-acne." His eyes sparkled. "Felisha is going to have a field day over this."

Johnson picked up a file and gazed over its contents, even though he had read them a million times before. He paused, softly closing the file in his hands. "Anything on today's subject?"

Without looking up from the file he was reading, Vlad answered. "Nothing yet. He should be in the recovery unit under surveillance."

Johnson looked down at the file his hands and placed it down on the table before he began to hesitantly speak. "We're running out of ideas, Dr. Masters."

Silence. He took that as a cue to continue.

"We've tried to merge a ghost and a human. We've tried to mate a human and a ghost. We've edited DNA to make space for ectoplasm," Johnson paused. He stared at Vlad nervously, who continued to read through the daily files like it was nothing. "We've edited ectoplasm to look like human DNA and used it with human DNA and tried to create an artificial baby. We invented a disease that filled subjects' systems with ectoplasm. We've tried transfusing ectoplasm into blood, but subjects' blood hardened like it would if it were given any other blood type." He caught his breath. "We've only managed to create temporary fusion between DNA and ectoplasm. Our best bet would be to find a half-ghost and study their DNA, but none have surfaced in nearly three hundred years. Now, we're infusing subjects with ectoplasm and shocking them in the hope that the electricity will cause the two to merge. We're running out of ideas."

Vlad's fingers around the file tightened and Johnson knew he was in trouble. "For a smart man, Johnson, you really are a fool." Vlad stood up, his form shadowing his worker ominously. "You think that I don't know that?" His eyes narrowed. "But it is possible." He walked up to one of his walls, gazing at the paintings that hung on it. Each one was unique and originated from a different culture, but each depicted former half-ghosts. "Humans have known the existence of ghosts since their own beginning. Half-ghosts are scattered throughout history, pre-dating much before BC."

Johnson wearily watched Vlad point to the first paining. A Native-American styled painting with a woman. Her long black hair floated unnaturally around her. Beautiful eagle wings folded behind her back. "Wohali of the Cherokee Tribe."

He continued on.

"Hercules and Perseus from Ancient Greece. Ji Gong of the Chinese Song Dynasty. Kimiko from Feudal Japan. Luan from South Africa. Uki from the Inuits."

Vlad turned around on his heel, his hands clasped behind his back, and his eyes glaring at his employee darkly. "If they can achieve half-ghosts through myths and legends, through praying to their dead ancestors for protection, through birth and gifts from tribal elders," his eyes grew darker, "then, we can achieve it through science."

Johnson's heart was beating rapidly. He was insane for even speaking the idea to Vlad, but he was desperate. He had immediately joined Vlad's company when he heard their objective. To be a part of the world's greatest creation! Oh, how young and foolish he had been. Ten years after joining VM Genesis, though, he was desperate. He didn't want to be known as the wacky head scientist who hopelessly tried to create a creature from children's fairy tales! His talents were being wasted! Oh, all the brilliant job opportunities he had turned away just to go on a wild goose chase!

"And what if it is just that?" he asked, swallowing thickly. He shakily readjusted his glasses.

Vlad made no movement and fell absolutely silent. "Please escort yourself out, Mr. Johnson."

Johnson stood up so quickly he almost knocked the chair he was sitting in over. "Sir—"

"I will not repeat myself."

He walked back to his desk and coldly sat down. It was clear then, the conversation was finished. Without another word, Johnson left his office.

-—-

Danny was dizzy.

So, he did what any other insanely dizzy person did. He leaned over the side of the bed and puked. The worker who had been watching him made an annoyed nose of disgust before he left the room to find a janitor. Danny sunk back into the bed sheets with a small satisfied smile, happy that he had caused them some trouble, even if his mouth did taste pretty awful.

He made a face at the taste in the mouth, then glanced down at the watery puddle of puke near the bed. It was more oddly colored water than food, except for a few chunks of mysterious food he'd rather not look at longer to determine.

Groaning, Danny turned his head, glaring up at the bright light of the room. He squinted, frowning heavily. Where was he?

He trie to remember what had happened before he passed out. Surgical tubes slid under his skin. Breathing tubes stuck up his nose. Blinding, mind-numbing pain.

The experiment. They experimented on him again.

Danny winced, looking down at his hands on top of the white bed sheets. He must be in the recovery unit. It wasn't the first time he had been here and it certainly wouldn't be his last. He should've been use to it by now. He had been here for how many years? One? Two? Somethings, though, you could never get used to.

His body was covered in bandages that ached awfully underneath. He probably had burn marks that would last for a while. There was an IV inserted into his arm, administrating what he would believe to be painkillers. How long had he been unconscious?

Johnson, Felisha, or Vlad weren't anywhere near him. So, the experiment must've been a failure. Again.

Danny sighed in relief, nuzzling his nose into the pillow. No more experiments for now. For now, he would try to sleep.

—

Felisha loved science, maybe a little too much. She had graduated from college with her doctorate in genetics and a minor in ghost studies and made her way to VM Genetics. The job was perfect for! A job involving ghosts AND genetics? Okay, so maybe she was a bit crazy in the mind and somewhat of a mad scientist, but could anyone blame her? Never before had anyone attempted to create a half-ghost like Mr. Masters! Sure, their project was making more errors than success, but isn't that what science is? Failure birthed from success!

With an excited grin, she closed the top of the thermal cycler. She kicked herself off the table, spinning on her swivel chair across the room. The mad scientist got up from her chair to get a sample from the fridge. Then, once again, sat down and kicked herself away. This time, though, to the group of microscopes cluttering a table.

Felisha put a dropper to the sample of blood, then squeezed a drop of it onto a slide. She dropped the dropper to the side and quickly slid the slide underneath the microscope to examine the contents. After a few seconds of adjustment, she finally got it right.

She pressed her face up closer to the microscope, feeling her hand around to find the recorder. Several things made loud clangs as she knocked them over in her fumble. Finally, she found it and pressed record.

"Subject #040403's blood has a consistent texture and fluidity," she hummed, adjusting the microscope as she spoke. She grinned when she saw small bits of green in the red blood and reached for a small tool to poke it with. The scientist tried to pick a small bit of ectoplasm off the blood, but it stubbornly stuck. "Oh! It seems that the subject has small pieces of ectoplasm, no bigger than a millimeter each, embedded into their blood! It appears that the process of using volts of electricity to fuse ectoplasm and DNA has been a success!"

She paused, excitedly tapping on the recorder in thought.

"Though! I wonder how long the symbiotic relationship will last. In the past, subjects who had ectoplasm embedded into their blood stream either died from the transfusion, their immune systems destroyed the ectoplasm, or the ectoplasm began to eat away at the subject's blood. I am excited to see how this one goes!"

Felisha reached out for a small ghost taser. It was a trick that she learned examining previous subjects' samples. When shocked with the ghostly energy, symbiotically fused blood and ectoplasm would light up green. However, this also seemed to increase the rapid demise of the fusion since neither of the liquids were inside a host.

She flicked the taser on and poked the sample. The whole sample slowly lit up a bright glowing green for a few seconds before fading back to normal. She put the taser to it again. And again. And again.

The mad scientist was mesmerized by the reaction and had quickly lost count of how many times she had electrocuted the sample. When she did, she paused and slammed her head to the table. "Oh, nooo!" she cried to herself, reaching for the dropper and another slide. The fusion was surely ruined!

Felisha removed the slide from underneath the microscope, pouting to herself and the recorder. She almost dropped the slide in shock. "Amazing!" she cried out, putting the slide closer to face. "It seems that despite being shocked multiple times outside the body, the ectoplasm and the human blood were able to maintain their symbiotic relationship!"

One of the machines dinged in the background. "Oh!" She shot up from her chair, dropping the recorder. "The results are ready!"

She excitedly bounded over to the machine, eagerly watching as it printed out the results from the DNA analysis. She ripped off the paper as soon as it finished, almost ripping it in half. The scientist's eyes excitedly scanned the results, until they widened slowly. "Oh, boy! Mr. Masters is gonna want to hear about this!"

—

Dr. Masters was down in the lab in an instant with Johnson following not far behind him.

Felisha bounded over to them, shoving a copy into Vlad's hands before bouncing off again. "Just look at their results! They're incredible!"

Both of the scientists eyes widened. Johnson opened his mouth to speak, but Felisha interjected before he could.

She squealed excitedly, "The ectoplasm has been transferred into a codon sequence! Creating a perfect unity of ectoplasm and human genetics within the DNA strand!

Johnson's jaw dropped in shock and he fumbled to readjust his glasses. He stuttered, "So, does that mean the subject's—"

"—Oh, no!" she exclaimed, widening her arms. Her large grin was almost terrifying. "The subject isn't a half-ghost— but his DNA is perfectly infused with bits of ectoplasm, creating a perfect base for more ectoplasm to be infused!" she swooned, "The amount in his bloodstream right now isn't nearly enough to create any powers, but," her grinned widened even further as she played with the goggles on top of her head, "with some work, a human with ghost powers is achievable."

A dangerous grin spread across Vlad's face. Oh, if only they knew how terribly ironic this situation was.

"Excellent job, Ms. Felisha," he praised, clasping his hands to his chest. "Now, remind me, doctor, how are you not chief scientist?"

Johnson seethed silently. Felisha, oblivious to the poke at her co-worker's pride, scratched her chin in thinking. "Uh, I don't have many years of experience?"

"And yet, my dear," Vlad smiled, "that is nothing to stop your brilliant mind."

She smiled, "Thank you, Dr. Masters."

Johnson scowled in annoyance. His eye twitching. Of course, of course the real possibility of successfully creating a half-ghost only surfaced after he brought up his concerns.

Vlad folded his hands behind his back and turned to his female employee. "Doctor, I trust that you'll prepare the upcoming experiment and all the materials needed."

"Of course, Dr. Masters!" she sang. Johnson looked frantically between the two. That was his job! "Is three days too soon?"

Vlad paused in the doorway. "It is never too soon for science, my dear."

—-—

When Danny woke up, he was back in his regular bed. He sighed in relief, snuggling his nose into the annoyingly flat pillow. No more recovery unit. No more experiments.

A sudden weight at the end of his bed told him that someone had just sat down near his feet. He blinked wearily, the intruding bright light of the room blinding him. His head was swirling quickly and aching painfully. He grunted as he pushed himself to sit up, wincing at the weight placed on his injured arms.

"Wow," a girl's voice said, "they really did a number on you this time."

It took Danny's sleep addled and pained mind to recognize who was talking. He forced a soft chuckle, looking down at himself. His arms were wrapped in bandages. There was a tough feeling of something restraining on his chest, which felt like a large wrapping. He was sure that if he moved the blankets of the dull bed, his legs would also be covered in bandages.

"Yeah," he said, "I guess they did."

Natalie, the girl, smiled at him sympathetically. She was only few years older than him, but her pale skin and malnourished form made them look the same age. Her hair was thin from all of the stress from being trapped there for so long.

Ben appeared behind her. He was in his early twenties, but looked healthier than Natalie. He had been there shorter. His skin was still covered in small scars from when he had picked at them so frequently when he had been on drugs.

He frowned at all of the bandages he could see and the bits of them sticking out from Danny's standard uniform. "Surprised they even let you out of recovery."

"Who cares," Danny scoffed, "as long as I'm not in there anymore."

"Did you hear the news?" Ben asked. The younger boy stared up at her curiously. "Clairie passed away." Natalie's eyes saddened.

Danny tried to flex his fingers, but they were stiff and ached to the bone. "Are we going to her funeral?"

Ben's eyes sparked with an odd flare. "I'll tell you at dinner," was all he said before walking away to the other side of the room.

Danny watched him go, confused, then scanned the large room. It was their dorms, where they all slept. The walls were white and so were the floors. There were no windows since they were several stories underground, so the only sources of light were annoyingly bright luminescent lights hanging above. There were twenty-or-so twin beds, all in perfect order, lined around the walls of the room. Each bed had a small white board hanging from it, with a subject's number written in erasable marker. Most of the boards were empty. In fact, so were most of the beds. Their sheets perfectly tucked in, undisturbed.

At some point, there had almost been fifteen of them. The number was always fluctuating, with subjects dying and new ones being brought in. Now, though, there was only four of them left. Him, Ben, Natalie, and—

"You look like shit."

Riley.

Danny shot back immediately. "Still a hundred times better than you."

Riley sat down on his bed to Danny's side, smiling at him. He didn't deny the younger's claim.

This wasn't a place to smile and joke, and they usually didn't, but one of them surviving and coming back was always something to smile about.

Danny's eyes swept over Riley quickly. The boy was only a year older than him. He was handsome despite the trials of this cruel place. His dark hair was thin from stress, but still very pretty. His eyes were dark from pain, but they still sometimes sparkled magnificently.

Riley cocked his head to where Ben was sitting in his bed on the opposite side of his room. "Don't mind him, he's insane."

"What was he even talking about?" Danny frowned.

Natalie sighed, drifting away. "He'll tell us at dinner, apparently."

Riley turned to him, concern flickering across his face. "Are you okay?" Danny breathed roughly through his nose, glaring at him. "Sorry, standard question."

"I'm fine," he grunted. "Watch."

He kicked the sheets off himself, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stood up. Pain immediately shot up from his legs and knees buckled underneath his weight. Riley tried to reach for him, but he was already on the cold floor.

Danny grunted against the cold tile. Riley hardly looked amused. "Nice job."

The younger boy scowled up at him, wincing at the burning pain. "Just shut up and help me up."

Carefully, Riley raised the other up onto his own bed, with only some pained hissing from the younger. Riley got up onto his bed, giving the injured Danny most of the room by laying on his side.

Danny's head was spinning. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm looking at you like I normally do, Danny," he said.

His own name sent a shiver down his spine. It was so good to hear that. His name. Not Subject #040403. Danny.

Now, if only he could remember whatever the rest of his stupid name was.

Riley slowly reached up his hand and began stroking Danny's hair. "That and my eyebrows are the only places on my body that still have hair on them," Danny said, wincing at the memory of the lightning hot electricity.

Riley frowned at him softly. "Don't joke about that."

He smiled, scorching his face closer to the older's. "Sorry."

Danny closed his eyes, the calm stroking of his hair relaxing him. Flashes of electricity burned underneath his eyelids.

Danny's eye lids flew open. He was not going to have a panic attack. He was not going to have a panic attack. Riley was right there. He was not going to have a panic attack.

"It's over," the other boy whispered, continuing to softly stroke his hair. "It's over." Danny reached out his hand and grasped Riley's hand, placing it between them.

Danny didn't even realize how hard he was breathing. Slowly, his breathing returned back to normal. He grasped the older's hand tighter. "Do you..." The question died in his throat. "Do you... remember?"

Riley's hand in his hair paused before it continued again. "The experiments? No," he said softly. "I'm unconscious."

Danny didn't realize he was shaking. "From the pain?"

"No," he shook his head. "They give me anesthesia. Don't you?"

He swallowed hard. No.

He licked his lips nervously. "Maybe they don't give me enough," he suggested, trying to ignore the fact that it seemed everyone else was given drugs before the experiments, but he never was. He was wide awake during every single one of them.

"Maybe."

"Hey, you two," a guard scolded as he approached them. "Dinner time."

Their faces flushed. Riley slipped out of the bed, standing up quickly. Danny sat up, embarrassed. "I- I can't walk."

"I'll get a wheel chair."

The guard came back in a few minutes in a wheelchair. They lifted Danny into the wheel chair then the guard escorted them down the hallway while Riley pushed the chair.

The cafeteria reminded him over every other cafeteria. Basic. Blank. But mostly smelly.

All of the workers of the company were eating right now, cheerily munching down on their afternoon meal. As if the blood of the young wasn't on their hands.

Everyone brought into the program was somewhere between the age of eleven and thirty five. Younger than that, their bodies weren't formed enough to experiment on properly. Older than that, health issues caused by age could ruin experiments. So, they settled for teenagers and those in their twenties. Run-always, drop-outs, and drug addicts. People no one would miss.

The boys waited in line for their food, then found their places at the table with the others. The only table surrounded by guards, of course.

Upon seeing Danny's wheelchair, Ben turned pale. "Oh, boy, this is not good."

"You tell me," he muttered, "my whole body hurts."

He really needed to stop making sarcastic comments in this environment, but it did make him feel a whole lot better.

Ben started to mutter furiously to himself. Natalie watched him silently, poking at her plain toast. "Ben," she said. "What are you doing? What did you want to tell us?"

He glanced to Danny and a sudden pit opened up in his stomach. Danny looked down at his feet, shuffling them uneasily. He suddenly felt like a burden.

Ben blew air through his nose. "I overheard Masters and Johnson talking last week. Masters has an important meeting with investors in three days. He'll be away and Johnson will be left in charge."

Natalie grew weary. "Where are you going with this?"

"Clairie's funeral is also in three days."

"So, there's a lot of things happening in three days," Riley frowned. "What's your point?"

"It's the perfect time to escape."

At the simple mention of the last word, they all shot up from their seats to cover Ben's mouth, even Danny who immediately regretted. Their eyes flickered rapidly around them. The guards were all momentarily distracted with talk amongst themselves.

"Are you insane?" Natalie hissed, removing her hand from his mouth. The other boys moved their hands and sat back down. No one answered her question.

Escape.

Escape was an old dream everyone used to have when they were first brought in. Sure, some of them did try to escape, but none of them ever succeeded. Once they were captured, they were subjected to the worst experiments and placed in solitary confinement. They never lived long after that.

Ben began to softly speak. "The graveyard is behind Masters's house, we know that. We're currently several stories underneath Masters's house, we know that," he whispered. "Masters's will be away with a good portion of the guards and won't be able to give orders, and Johnson will be busy scrambling to think of orders to give them. We just need to escape from there once we're outside."

Silence. It was a ridiculous plan. Impossible.

"And where would we go after that?" Riley asked, skeptical.

"The police."

Natalie looked down. "We have no idea what's our surroundings once we're outside the mansion. They'll catch up to us in no time."

"It's worth a shot," Ben insisted.

"Ben, they'll kill us."

"Would you rather be trapped here you're whole life, Nat?" he asked and she fell silent. "You've been here longer than any of us. Do you really wanna spend the rest of your life like this?"'

"We'll never escape," she said softly.

"But it's worth it," he persisted. "Dying trying to get out of her is better than dying at the hands at one of those mad scientists." He gestured to all the people in lab coats around them.

"Danny is injured," Riley said.

Danny was silent. If he was in any other shape, he would've immediately agreed with Ben, but this time was different. He was sick and nauseated to his stomach just sitting there. There was no way he was going to be able to run in a week, much less three days. Danny felt tears pricking at his eyes. But he also wouldn't stop his friends from their only window of freedom.

"I heal quickly," he lied, looking down at the many bandages wrapped around his skin. "I'll be okay."

"We're not leaving you behind, Danny."

"And I'm not letting you guys stay behind," he shot back. "This place is a nightmare. No one deserves to be stuck here. This is your guys first chance of freedom in a longtime," he said, biting his lip. "I don't want to hold you guys back. I'll make the trip."

Fear glittered in Natalie's eyes. "There's no changing your mind, is there?"

"No," he said. "I'm going. One way or another."

She sighed, deflating. "Alright."

Riley stared at him with a concerned frown. He reached out for Danny's hand and squeezed it lightly. "If you can't make it, Danny. You can't make it. I'll stay behind."

Danny felt bad lying. He did, but it was probably for the better. "It's really not that bad. I promise."

Ben grinned. "Then, it's settled," he said. "In three days, we escape."

Not even their craziest dreams would be able to cook up the events that would take place that day.

—-

A/N: Hello :) This is my first written fanfic in a very long time and I'm honestly nervous to post it. I haven't written in a while, so I'm only starting to pickup my writing skills again. Please know I don't want this to be a dark fic! So, although it is a bit depressing in the beginning, it won't last long. Please feel free to leave any comments .