Chapter 19

His surroundings became clear to him in a snap and he was able to determine the layout—how he could at least keep it preoccupied with him while Sam escaped. He knew there wasn't much he could do with these rings on him. Nevertheless, he wouldn't let two people die when one could live.

The thing fired off another morphed arm. It was fast, he could tell, but he was able to see this strike and anticipate what his own course of action should be. There was no avoiding it, not with Sam being dead weight like this.

His wrist shot out and a loud CLING! reverberated throughout the room as his ring met the blade and bumped it away. The thoughts and planning in his head were so fast he halfway had to trust his own body to know what to do, and how to do it.

Though he had successfully stopped the being from skewering him, the force of the metal-on-metal clash had jammed his ring further into his hand. Blood began to well up around the slight gap between the skin and the ring.

Sam, on the other hand, didn't keep as much of a level head anymore.

"What was that sound?!" she cried. "What did you do?!"

He jumped up to the sides of his feet and tried to remain firm standing. He wanted to calm Sam down but he knew better than to let her panic distract him. This thing was too fast for his focus to be split between it and Sam.

For a moment he imagined it as some new machine built by English-speakers, back when he assumed all English-speakers were bad. But the thought was fleeting. Back then he'd been taught to obey any command, no matter how absurd or illogical it was. To destroy one of their machines was nothing short of a death wish. He could not, under any circumstance, view this as relevant to them.

The thing warped its hand again, this time aiming directly for his ankles—the only things standing between the blade and Sam. But he used the ring in his hand to counter it before. He couldn't simply hop to the side and let Sam be cut up.

It depended more on what this thing was trying to attack but with a gamble, he kicked one foot out and the ring met with the side of the blade. It wasn't entirely effective—it did still cut the front of his leg, but the cut would've been much deeper had he not done that. Not only that, but it cost him whatever balance he actually had when the blade had inadvertently hooked into the ring and pulled him forth when the thing tried to snap its arm back. It was hard to tell whether the resulting kick to its chest was really worth it.

Sam had, thankfully, began moving to hide under her desk, curling up and covering her head with her hands. She was still in the room but the simple fact that she was trying to hide from this monster was enough to put his mind at ease, at least on that matter. No more distractions.

It helped that the kick was forceful enough to push the thing back farther, into a more open area. This thing could go through walls; he couldn't. An open area was ideal under these conditions. The room itself made everything feel tighter than it should be though.

For the longest time it seemed like all it was doing was trying to separate itself from his ring, thrashing and swinging him around like a toy. And him? In this position there was nothing he could do. The thing could've just held still and he would've gladly taken the time to undo this, but obviously it didn't think the same way he did and continued to flail.

It felt like days of being hit and pulled by either the ground or the thing/his ring, but the creature finally snapped. It dragged him towards the wall at a speed he didn't know if he could keep up with. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable pain. Instead he felt an odd tingling sensation… It was almost like a wave, washing over his body but disappearing in an instant. He opened his eyes in time to be unhooked and thrown to the ground. He had no idea where he was at now. It had more space than Sam's room but the ground wasn't soft, it was hard, almost like at the facility but smoother.

He'd never been here before but it looked like a giant room, not at all similar to Sam's. It was like a hall, really, but so much bigger than any he'd been down before.

Not another thought could pass through his head before the thing attempted to stab him again, this time aiming for his head. On instinct he rolled to the side right in the nick of time. Right behind his head a loud SHING, CLAP! assaulted his ears. He wasted no more time and wrestled gravity to stand. The metal had gotten stuck in the floor—deep, apparently. The creature had trouble yanking it out. The only thing he could do that could remotely save his hide was try to run. Hiding in a different room was clearly not an option if it could go through walls. Hiding behind something didn't sound very smart, all things considered. Not to mention that if he was backed into a corner he was dead for sure.

His only viable choice was to get up and fight.

He honestly didn't know how to though. He could barely do anything with these rings in him. He could tackle Sam all day to keep her out of danger but that required no actual fighting skills, not to mention that this thing's focus was on him now and Sam was safe in her room. His priorities had changed. He knew what he was supposed to do but his handicap wouldn't allow for it. Project Level Up or not, if only those English-speakers had taken out the rings…

He had to stop thinking about it when the thing used its free arm to slam him into nearby table, breaking it in half. After that he didn't see much of what was happening, but he heard the thing shriek like death was claiming it. It was enveloped in a bright light and then disappeared with it over the wood he was stuck in.

Sam flung open her bedroom door and ran downstairs to him. She seemed panicked but didn't bother to look for the creature. Then again he was almost positive that he was the only one able to see it. The knowledge that he had kept her safe was enough to put him at ease.

She was down on her knees in a heartbeat and ran one of her hands through his hair.

"It's black again," she breathed. "Are you okay?"

She helped him back into his feet and he winced in pain when he felt the cut on his leg. Sam didn't seem worried about it at all and looked over towards the door to the house. He followed her line of sight, finding two humans tightening the lid to a long container—he wanted to say it was either a cup or a long bowl but with a lid on top.

"Mr. Fenton, what happened?!" Sam yelled, unknowingly hardening her grip on one of his wrists. For a small girl she had strength…

The man gave the bowl/cup thing to the woman beside him.

"When you said something strange was up I immediately suspected a ghost was involved, so I brought the Fenton thermos and sucked it up. Works like a charm!" the man proudly said.

The woman approached him and stared at his hands.

"Sam, who is this boy? I'm sure Jazz would've mentioned something about a boy…like this."

He wasn't entirely sure he could trust these new English-speakers. They weren't Sam or Tucker but they did have some kind of connection with each other. Were there other English-speakers in the Outside that were like Sam and Tucker? He had never quite given thought to it before now. He had simply counted his blessings and been happy with that.

Sam let go of his wrist.

"This is Daniel," she said. "He's kind of new here."

The woman waved at him and smiled. "Hello, Daniel. I'm Maddie and this is my husband Jack."

He noticed the garb she was wearing, some kind of suit that clung very tightly to her body. It was blue and looked stretchy. Her goggles blocked the view of her eyes and somehow that was unnerving for him. He took a step back.

"He can't speak," Sam said. "He's also a little shy around strangers."

The woman hummed for a moment and gave him another look-over. Suddenly she held one of her hands up and pointed at it.

"Do you know sign language, Daniel?"

He barely had time to even blink before Sam rushed to his aid again.

"Yeah, he doesn't know how to sign…or understand English," she mumbled nervously. "And even if he did it's really hard for him to communicate back."

"What is he doing here?"

"I…well…" Sam took a deep breath. "Remember that trip Jazz went with me on, the one out of town for my World History site essay? I went there, did all my stuff, and when I came back I found him in my room."

"Samantha Manson, you let a stranger stay with you all this time?!" the lady shrieked. "Do you have any idea what your parents would think of this?! How worried they would be?!"

"I know it sounds stupid but I mean, seriously, what's the worst he can do with those rings?"

"That's not the point, Sam!"

"He's not dangerous, he wouldn't hurt a fly!"

As tension in the air rose, the two broke out in an argument that only became more heated by the moment. He still didn't know English, and was still barely grasping the basics of it, so there weren't that many words he could make out. He knew it was about him, though, and that alone made him uneasy. Sam and Tucker talking about him was one thing but new English-speakers even mentioning his name was…unsettling. He didn't know their intentions.

He did know that Sam had some connection with them, however, and curiosity got the best of him. He moved a few more steps back but otherwise stayed and let the two ladies battle it out.

It took a good amount of time, with the man in the back staring at him as though he was some sort of oddity, for them to finish up their little fight. By then they had simply been firing words at each other. He couldn't say for sure why.

"I can't just kick him out on the streets," Sam said. "He doesn't have anywhere else to go."

The woman sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Where does he come from?" she asked.

Sam shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know exactly where, but he was hurt when I found him. Tucker and I think he was abused and ran away, and he ended up in an empty house which happened to be mine."

"Sam—"

"And it's a good thing he came here," Sam quickly said, cutting her off. "He knew that thing was in my room and protected me. If he hadn't seen it I would've been in serious trouble."

The woman turned her eyes back to him and instead of an expression of anger, he only saw confusion.

She pulled back her suit to reveal her face—the man followed and took a place beside the woman, not unlike he had done with Sam.

"You said he could see it?"

Sam nodded.

"And…how do you communicate with him?"

"He doesn't speak English so I use an online translator."

"What language do you have to translate?"

Sam hesitated for a moment. "Esperanto."

The woman and the man both looked at each other in worry and the woman nervously chuckled.

"Have you been teaching him English at all?"

"He's been learning it little by little. He's starting to piece together short sentences. It's been a slow process but he's also had to learn other things. He's very curious."

He shuffled more behind Sam than beside her and stared at the floor, feeling the pair's burning gaze. He couldn't help but feed off their unfounded nervousness—at least it seemed unfounded. These English-speakers came from the Outside dressed in strange clothing that other English-speakers, not even Sam or Tucker, wore. Then they carried strange objects that he had never seen. It was definitely they who defeated the creature thing that he had been up against. They had saved his life, and more importantly Sam's life, but it was unclear why. There was something about them that he just couldn't trust. Sam was a fellow English-speaker so perhaps their real goal was to defend her and he simply happened to be there in the middle of it. That made much more sense than a couple of new English-speakers coming to his aid.

"This will sound strange but does he bathe himself?" the woman asked.

"Oh, no, there's no way he could do that. Tucker gives him baths."

"I see… So Tucker is involved in taking care of him?"

"Daniel sleeps here but we share the responsibilities. He's really not that much trouble, once you get to know him. He just requires a little more…patience than other people," Sam answered.

He didn't want her to use his name. He didn't want her to have any involvement with these English-speakers. He didn't want them staying here.

"Did Tucker ever happen to mention something about, oh…a mark on his back, or something of that sort? A tattoo, maybe? Some kind of coloring? Anything?"

For a while Sam's mouth hung open, as if she was trying to say something but was deciding whether she should or shouldn't. But why would she have to decide? Didn't English-speakers communicate clearly with each other? She communicated with Tucker all the time. He had yet to see them fight like this though, and he had been with them for a long time.

In precision timing Tucker burst through the front door and practically barreled through. It was unfortunate but the first thing he was greeted with was Sam yelling for him and the two unknown English-speakers already bombarding him with questions. His name had to have been said at least six times in under a minute. Poor Tucker.

Finally Sam sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Over the course of the time he had spent with her, this was never a good sign. Usually it involves the school building though, so it was hard for him to understand why these English-speakers were making her do this thing with her hair.

After waiting patiently for the two others to stop talking, Tucker finally managed to get a word in edgewise.

"Mr. and Mrs. Fenton," he said, "if you must know the truth, yes, I have seen marks on his back. I translated every word, and now it's our turn to ask questions. How do you know about Project Level Up?"

"Tucker!" Sam growled.

He noticed that both of the other English-speakers' faces pale to a color he could only describe as pure white.

"They already know about him, Sam," Tucker replied. "How would they know about any weird markings on him? Why didn't they ask about why he can understand Esperanto but not English? Why didn't they ask about the rings? And why do they look like they've seen a ghost when I mentioned Project Level Up? Why aren't they confused? Why aren't they asking the most obvious questions? I know you didn't blurt anything out."

Tucker continued to glare at them. Suddenly Sam tensed up as well and the atmosphere became heavy. He wanted to run but he couldn't just leave Sam and Tucker alone with these other people, especially not when things were getting heated again.

"Listen," the woman said. "It doesn't matter how we know anything. The fact is that people are coming for him and when they do, you two can't be in their way. I would like to bring him to our house."

"WHA—"

"We can help him," the man added. "Jazz always tells everyone about our lab. We have tools there."

"We can take the rings out and maybe we can fix his speech problem."

Tucker came over beside him and seemed to be equally untrusting of those two.

"He's not going anywhere," Tucker said.

A/N

WHEWWWWW! Finally got this done, been working on other stories as well then college decided to hit me hard and fast. I'm never doing multiple summer classes again, I have NEVER written that many essays/group projects/presentations in that short a period in my entire life. I have no idea how I don't have carpal tunnel right now.

I'm hoping this chapter is worth the wait. I know the ghost battle was extremely anticlimactic but I fully intended for it to be that way for a few reasons, one major one being, how can a severely handicapped Danny/Daniel fight a ghost and live? Another major one is that I had always been excited about bringing Maddie and Jack into the picture but it killed me having to pace the story and wait that long before doing it. The connections between Tucker and Sam and all of the Fentons will be further explained later and no, I did not forget to tell everyone how they all know each other.

Hope you liked everything and now that I have a few weeks before the fall semester I can probably get another chapter done in about one or two weeks. I'm so sorry it took this long, it's a ridiculous amount of time, I know.