Chapter 13: Inglorious Bastards

Writer's Note: Just so you know, before you read this, know that I do my best to keep my personal politics out of my work. I try to keep both sides' messages and opinions equal and not favorably lean them either way. I try. I may not succeed, but I try. Just so you know.

"It is not enough to possess a talent; one must also possess your permission to possess it – eh, my friends."

-Nietzsche, Good and Evil, Maxims and Interludes, 151

"We have to use the Oxygen Destroyer."

Savior's tone was serious and final, the type used by people who appear to be asking if there is any dissention in the ranks so they may make an example of it. And while Savior was not a merciless CEO or evil villain in the vein of Blofeld, he was certainly channeling their essence when it came to dealing with problems. At least now he was.

"We don't have any other choice." Savior continued. "The special Thermos we had made to contain her was destroyed, no need to go over how that happened again…" Savior said. Danny, the only one at the table besides the Titans themselves, appeared to experience a sudden interest in studying the wood grain. None of the Titans looked at him though, but it didn't change how the words made him feel. "And even if it wasn't, this battle has made it clear that all other options are futile. Even IF we could have caught Sizzle, we don't have anything we could do with her. Raven had yet to discover any kind of binding or imprisonment spell that would keep her captive, and since we have no idea how much of a time frame we're under, we'll have to go by the path that there is none. Under that thesis, which may yet be proven false, capturing Sizzle would have done no good. The Ghost Zone is far from a suitable prison: Sizzle could easily escape, and when she does…you've all seen her. Some of you really up close." Savior said, looking at Starfire, who nodded. In the end, the alien girl had managed to recover from the nerve attack Savior had been forced to utilize without any apparent damage, and Sizzle's mindwiping effect when she was separated from a host had actually caused her to forget the pain altogether. Even so, it didn't improve Savior's mood, because all HE could remember about it was her terrible screams, and that just added to the grimness of his demeanor: he still hated the fact he'd had to do that to a teammate. "She's absolutely out of control. She doesn't even hold up her so-called protection of females: she'll kill women if it suits her purposes. She's no Woe, that's for sure. Even IF we had caught her…the fact is, she'd just spent every moment she had trying to find another way out. Danny can't watch for her 24/7 for the rest of his life, and the second she slipped out, she'd find a new host and head straight for Danny, if she didn't just fly up and nuke Amity Park from orbit. Based on this…we have no choice but to eliminate her. And the only feasible way I can see of doing this is to use the Oxygen Destroyer." Savior said. "Cyborg, it IS your device. And I know you don't want to use it unless you've worked out all the bugs. But unless you can give me a VERY good alternate plan, I will have no choice but to order you to use it. I don't like it, in fact I hate it…but it's the last option."

"Didn't you bring freeze guns?" Danny suddenly piped up.

Savior looked at him, and Danny felt himself shrinking back from the gaze. Though he was trying to hide it and be fair, Danny had a feeling that Savior's distaste for his lack of experience, coupled with the fact that his backfired attempt to help had been one of the reasons that Starfire had been subjected to that nerve pinch, was starting to plunge his opinion of Danny from "inexperienced kid" to "outright annoyance". And though part of Danny knew that he didn't deserve the treatment…the other part couldn't help but keep thinking on how the only reason he had survived so far was due to extreme luck or the Titans bailing him out. Not to mention the battle this afternoon had completely exhausted his abilities: even now, Danny couldn't muster the ability to transform.

And even if Savior's mood should have improved after his snapping at Danny earlier that day and the fact that it hadn't should indicate a failure more on Savior's part then Danny's…what did he know?

Shouldn't Savior be more worldly in these things? He was a Teen Titan, the first to join after the original five had formed. Who was he? Danny Phantom?

But still…did that give him the right…

…It probably did. Danny was just a kid. Savior was a battle-scarred veteran who had faced some of the mightiest threats the Earth had ever been challenged by, and he had come through. Danny couldn't get good grades to save his life: Savior was coming up with solutions to problems within seconds of hearing them. The Titans' main nemeses were Slade "Deathstroke The Terminator" Wilson and the Lord of the Night. Who was his? The Box Ghost?

Yes, surely Savior knew what he was talking about…even if every other word seemed to be Danny's inadequacies. But then again, he probably was just pointing them out because they might yet screw something up more and cause new problems…

And he was talking again, responding to Danny's question.

"It is true that we possess several weapons confiscated from ice-using villains, along with a few others that our friend Cyborg has managed to jury-rig from their designs…but Danny, surely you understand that they are, more likely then not, distraction weapons at best. Based on the power she's manifesting now, I have no doubt she could melt her way out of any ice prison we could set up. Hell, she might somehow split the water molecules back into its hydrogen and oxygen components, and as you surely know, both are highly flammable. Make a note of that Cyborg." Savior said.

Danny felt as small as a bug again. There were Savior's qualities coming through again. Danny would have just zapped Sizzle with a freeze gun if he had it: Savior had theorized that such a tactic could actually make her stronger. Maybe it would be best if he kept his mouth shut. That was clearly what Savior wanted.

"No…with her ability to manipulate heat, I doubt we can quench it. And I doubt we can lure her to any place that won't have something she can ignite. The only option left is to get rid of the air. No air, no fire. And I doubt any of us can push her into outer space. As I have said, the only choice left is the Oxygen Destroyer. I propose that…"

"Hold on, I'm getting a news report." Cyborg said, raising a hand and placing it on the side of his head. Savior immediately stopped talking and picked up a remote to turn on a nearby TV to a local channel.

"Live from Amity Park, still, this is Chet Ubetcha!" Said the still alive albeit slightly singed reporter, as he looked gravely at the camera. "It has been several hours since the Apache helicopter terrorizing this city went down and the attack on it ceased. However, many strange things have happened since! We have seen no Army or government presence…"

That was because Savior had called up to the JLA Watchtower and told them what was going on, mostly on the fact that a war machine like a AH-64D Longbow Apache helicopter would surely send the Army/Air Force/Navy/some military division running to investigate, and had asked them if some of the higher members could have a talk with the Pentagon and tell them it might be best for them to stay out of the area for the moment or else they might become a target for something they couldn't fight or stop. J'onn had called back later saying that the generals that had spoken to weren't agreeing with the please stay out request, but they'd delay sending any presence for the moment. Just to be on the safe side and to make sure Danny didn't end up in any state home while his parents were in a military jail because they had stupidly bought and modified an Apache helicopter due to a government snafu, Raven had made all the wreckage of the Apache 'disappear' (Savior didn't ask where she put it), and the Titans had headed over to the Fenton house to get rid of all the evidence there as well. The Fentons couldn't interfere: Maddie Fenton had been taken to Amity Park's hospital and Jack and Jazz Fenton had gone there to make sure she was ok (Jack because he was certain Maddie would be infected by some ghost virus, and Jazz to make sure that her dad didn't do anything stupid). Savior had fed a cover story to the local police that they had swallowed, just a tad too easily for Savior's taste. But why had been quickly made apparent…

"And even more strangely, or maybe not so, the citizens of this fine town have all but vanished in the hours since this terrible and horrific attack! Despite the incredible fact that there has not yet been one recorded death…"

Savior hadn't believed it when he had checked in for a casualty report from the police three hours ago, and he still didn't believe it when he heard it coming from Chet Ubetcha's mouth. Sizzle had utterly ravaged Amity Park: how could there NOT be any deaths? But lo and behold, there wasn't. Oh sure, there were enough injuries to stuff the hospital to bursting, to the point where patients were being taken to other town's medical centers if their injuries were not serious (and that reminded Danny, the fact that Maddie Fenton hadn't suffered any apparent serious injuries would probably ensure that the Fentons would be returning home soon if they weren't home now, and Savior wondered if he would have to come up with an excuse for them as why their son wasn't there…), but it appeared that no one had died. True, that might yet change, but it was looking good. It appeared the gods of fortune had decided to drop down on the Earth for a vacation. Savior wondered if he should place some bets on the Cubs for the next World Series…

But even with that amazing fact, it hadn't changed one thing: the people of Amity Park knew something terrible had come to their town. In the way people denied what they saw because it did not, could not fit their idea of reality, they did not know exactly what…but they had enough surface evidence (hell, an Apache helicopter was pretty damn good when it came to excuses) to act anyway.

And what they had done was leave. In droves. In masses. It rather reminded Savior of the mysteries of how some people in the course of history had stumbled onto towns where all the occupants had suddenly, utterly vanished, even though evidence showed that they seemed to have been in the midst of doing such things as cooking and cleaning when they had suddenly disappeared (Croatian, anyone?). In this case, Savior knew where they had gone: out of town, their belongings packed and on/in the car as they got the hell out of Dodge (Savior had to give credit to whoever had designed Amity Park's streets and highways, there hadn't been a single traffic jam despite all the people leaving. Now THAT was effective roadsmanship…or maybe just more luck. Maybe he SHOULD place a bet on the Cubs, and maybe some more bets on whatever terrible sports team was humiliating itself last year to go all the way next time…). Maybe tomorrow, or the next day, they would think they were being foolish and come back…but for now, they were gone. Everyone. Well, maybe there was still a lone soul or two somewhere…but for the most part, Amity Park had become a literal ghost town. The only real place where there were still people was at the hospital, and as mentioned that was at the very edge of town. The rest was deserted. Even the police and other government people had left. Hell, even the CRIMINALS had skipped town, their deep primal instincts that something very bad was still to come overwhelming their common sense to stay put and loot Amity Park for the abandoned gold mine it was.

The town was empty. Completely. And that deeply bothered Savior, as to him, it meant that fate was winding up for something huge.

Then again, what could be bigger then the Paulina/Fenton-copter/Starfire battle?

Then AGAIN, Savior didn't want an answer to that. Absit omen, went a Latin phrase: May it not be an omen.

"So, in conclusion, Chet Ubetcha has only one thing to say: THIS TOWN IS CURSED! WHATEVER YOU DO, DON'T COME HERE! IN FACT, I'M LEAVING RIGHT NOW!" Chet screamed, and then he ran off camera. It swiftly cut back to a confused anchorwoman.

"Well…I suppose you have your reasons Chet. In other news, a Catholic priest and a Jewish rabbi got into a fistfight on which God caused the miracle of there not being a single death in the attack on Amity Par-"

Savior turned the TV off.

"If anything, I say this supports my idea. Provided we verify it, there isn't anyone in this town that could be hurt or killed if the device goes seriously awry. A weapon that is supposed to suck up the air within a few dozen feet that accidentally does it for a few square miles doesn't really matter if there's nothing to harm in those miles. So, in regards to this information, I strongly suggest that we deploy the Oxygen Destroyer when Sizzle next shows up."

"What if she's in a host?" Raven asked.

"I already calculated that. If anything comes from that goddamn nerve pitch…how are you feeling Star?"

"I still feel ok Savior. For the fifth time, there don't appear to be any detrimental effects. Don't worry. You did what you had to, to protect Danny and yourself." Starfire said.

"All the same…Sizzle clearly can't handle intense pain in that vein, pardon the rhyme. And while my main reason for worry was that my actions could short circuit Starfire's alien nervous system in some way, I can say that that is not the case with a normal human, which Sizzle will most likely possess. So, if she is in a host, we will give her the runaround until I can get close enough to hook up to the human's nervous system and cause the necessary feedback…"

"WHU-WHU-WHAT?" Danny suddenly sputtered, and stood up. "You're going to cause a normal human agonizing pain?"

"If I have to." Savior replied.

"WHAT? After all that fuss over Starfire, you're…"

"Danny…" Savior said, cutting him off. "We don't have any other choice. It has already been demonstrated that you can't remove her, and with the Fenton Incapacitator destroyed, we have no other…"

"Yes you do! Knock the host out some other way!"

"DANNY." Savior said again. "The Fenton Incapacitator worked because Sizzle was not expecting it the first time and because you caught her by relative surprise the second time, due to the fact that she had expected you to be distracted by the then apparent and imminent disintegration of your friend Tucker…"

"You rang?" Tucker said, suddenly next to Savior.

Savior turned his eyes on the black teen. Tucker's enthusiasm faded under the hard gaze.

"Have you suddenly come into possession of any talents or information that would be of vital importance to our battle against Sizzle?" Savior asked, his tone edged with just a tad bit of harshness.

"Uh…no…but I brought cookies!" Tucker said, holding up a plate.

"…Thanks." Savior said, taking the plate of cookies and laying it down, Starfire immediately attacking it. "But young man, you must understand…this is a meeting for the people who will be fighting against Sizzle. If you can't contribute anything to that, I really can't have you hanging around. This is a war, not a club."

"But…"

"Tucker…" Savior said, his voice firm. "Please."

"………..All right." Tucker said, sounding disappointed. "I'll get out of your hair."

"Thank you." Savior said, as Tucker dejectedly left the room. "As I was saying Danny, your friend Tucker escaped death because your girl, er, just a friend Sam shoved him aside and took the blast of flame for him. She wasn't hurt because of Sizzle's flame's nature to not hurt females unless she consciously wills it. That let you get the second shot in. The fact that the Incapacitator was destroyed aside…Sizzle has clearly demonstrated that she can adapt. Had she seen it coming, the Fenton Incapacitator might not have worked at all the second time. By that possibility, the attempt to knock a host out via blows to the cranium might not work. Even an attempt to connect to the host and induce a state of unconsciousness might not prove efficient, at least not enough to avoid a possible immolation while the attempt is being made. No…I think the inducement of immense pain would prove to be the most beneficial route."

"But what if she resists the pain like she could resist the unconsciousness?"

"She won't."

"How do you know?"

"People can fight against passing out. That can happen. But people can't shut their nervous systems off. And Sizzle can't control her host without being hooked up to the nervous system. With a human nervous system, I can cause immense pain without any permanent or even temporary damage, and Sizzle's forced expulsion will wipe the mind of the host and make her forget anything that occurred. Besides the several seconds of immense agony the host will experience at the time, I do not see a downside to this course of action."

"But…it's wrong!"

Savior did not reply to this: he just gave Danny another one of his looks, the look that suggested that Danny was acting like a fool and it would probably serve him best if he stopped, and Danny didn't want to listen, but the gaze was just so CONVINCING, and Danny felt himself wilting under it again, much like Tucker had.

"Child…in this life…sometimes right and wrong are relative. But if anyone has anything against this plan, feel free to speak up now. I will not blame you if you have reservations from a moral standpoint, but as Henry Adams said, 'morality is a private and costly luxury', and I say that certainly applies here. Anyone disagree?"

Danny looked around for support. Starfire looked saddened but determined, Cyborg looked resigned, and Raven looked fairly grim. And he realized that none of them were going to speak up on his behalf.

And then again…he hadn't really expected them to. After all, Savior was their leader. And leaders had to lead. Even if they had to trample on some people in the process.

"Ok then. Anything else to say Danny?" Savior asked.

"No…..nothing…" Danny said quietly.

"Ok then…as of now this is the plan. Sizzle said that next time it ends, so we can assume she will come at us with both barrels blazing. When she does, and if she is not in a host, we prevent her from getting to one. Raven, you think you can whip up a spell that will prevent her from repossessing you and Star?"

"I believe that is possible." Raven said.

"All right…we stop her from getting a host. If she already has a host, we get her out of it via my outlined plan, or if other means become available. Once she is out, we throw the Oxygen Destroyer at her and hope for the best. Even if it goes wrong, it will suck up all the gases in the area and eliminate them, Sizzle included, and let's hope her sentience vanishes along with her body. Cyborg, if things go wrong, your body can temporarily store oxygen and feed it directly into your organic parts. You'll stay close and turn off the machine, smash it if you have to. But in the end, the thing that matters is that we deal with Sizzle as quickly and as efficiently as possible. Which brings up my final point." Savior said, and turned to Danny. "Danny, have you yet recovered from the battle this afternoon?"

"What?"

"Can you go ghost again yet?"

"Uh…I'll try…" Danny said, as he stood up. "I'm goin' ghost."

And…nothing happened. Under the gaze of the four Titans, Danny suddenly felt a crazy desire to break into a little dance, his own little Ashley Simpson SNL performance.

"Right, I figured. You utterly exhausted yourself in the previous battle, and I don't blame you Danny." Savior said. It was meant as a compliment, but instead it just made Danny feel worse, as he sat down again. "But if you can't access your powers…I'm afraid you're a liability Danny. Therefore, I suggest you stay out of the coming battle."

"What?" Danny said, as he found his righteous offence again, or at least he thought so. "You're kicking me out of the plan?"

"I'm trying to keep you SAFE Danny. Sizzle is fixated on YOU. You could barely handle her WITH powers, I don't want to think of what would happen to you without them."

"But she might not attack for days! Surely I'll be recovered then!"

"Maybe, and if that is the case the plan will be reassessed. But for now, you're nothing but a hotdog on a stick to her. Hell, you might stay that way for the rest of your life: do you have any idea if your powers have a set limit on how they replenish themselves or have you always assumed they'd come back every time you burned yourself out?"

"I, uh, but, I…well…I…uh…buh…"

"Exactly. You might just be normal Danny Fenton again kid. If you want to enjoy that, you'll keep out of our way. Hell, even IF you get your powers back in the very near future…you might want to keep out of our way anyway."

"WHAT? No! If I get my powers back I want to fight!"

"And if you get them back, charge into battle, and find them konking out after thirty seconds, then where will you be?" Savior asked.

Danny opened his mouth and found he had no words.

"Exactly. Kid, you did well out there…but that was then. This is now. This is the big one, and you're out of gas. Kid…I don't want you or your friends to be harmed by this fight. Sizzle's OUR enemy, we should be the ones to deal with her…and at the moment…you'd just be in the way. I'm sorry Danny, but this is for the best. Trust me."

Danny sat down again. He didn't think it was possible, but he somehow felt even worse.

"Ok then. Final wrap up. Cyborg, you go fetch the Oxygen Destroyer and all the other special gear we brought. Prime the gear and then see if you can do any last second debugging on the Oxygen Destroyer. You never know, sometimes the thing that helps the most to solve problems is pressure."

"Yeah, you try doing it." Cyborg half joked, half grumped.

"I'm doing it now." Savior replied. "Raven, you find and cast that spell that will protect you and Star. You brought a bunch of your books, right?"

"Right."

"Ok then, once that spell is cast, hit them. See if you can find anything, anything at all, that might let us bind or hold Sizzle in a more permanent way then the Ghost Zone. Starfire, you're sure you're ok?"

"YES NOEL." Starfire blurted out.

Silence.

"Oops." Starfire said, realizing what she had done in her irritation.

"Your name is Noel?" Danny asked.

"Ah fuck." Savior cursed, and then thrust out his hand. The Shimmer sprang out, so quickly Danny never even knew what had happened: he felt a sudden pressure in his ear and then a faint dizziness, and then he blinked as he felt a sudden sense of vertigo.

"There." Savior said as he pulled the Shimmer back. Danny blinked, utterly confused.

"What just happened and…hey!" Danny said, as he tried to access what he had just seen and found a complete blank. "What did you do!"

"You heard some sensitive information, so I hacked into your mind and erased the last ten seconds of your short term memory."

"WHAT!"

"It's for the best kid."

"YOU SCREWED WITH MY BRAIN! WHAT IF YOU CAUSED PERMANENT DAMAGE!"

"I didn't."

"BUT YOU…"

"DANNY." Savior snapped. "Trust me, possessing the information you just heard could bring you MORE HARM THEN SIZZLE. BELIEVE ME, YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW ME."

"But…but…" Danny said, but Savior was already ignoring him, turning back to Starfire.

"Star, be careful."

"Yes…I am sorry…Savior." Starfire said, though she looked a tad bit cross at what Savior had just pulled. Cyborg and Raven had the same look. Savior ignored it. He didn't need Danny finding out his real name and risking the chance his father could trace him. Ignorance was bliss in this case, for Danny AND Noel.

"As I was saying, if you're certain you're ok, I'd appreciate it if you can do a sweep around Amity Park. Make sure it really is deserted."

"All right."

"And Danny…just try and keep yourself safe, ok? Meeting adjourned." Savior said.

Danny could only stare as the Titans got up and started. He couldn't believe it. This whole meeting had been one big case of surrealism to him. These people, the Titans, HEROES…and here they were agreeing to use an incomplete device to destroy their foe, DESTROY her, all chances for redemption gone, and willing to cause immense pain to a human being to accomplish this under ends justified the means philosophy, and his brain, he'd heard something and Savior had just reached out and snatched it back, like he wasn't even going to TRY trusting him with whatever he had heard…the roil of emotions in his chest was just getting stronger and stronger, all kinds mixing together so he could no longer tell if he was upset or outraged or saddened or humiliated or shamed or enraged or anything, but he knew he couldn't just sit here and say nothing, as Savior was still at the table, opening up his communicator, and Danny opened his mouth…and found that all the words were getting jumbled together into an incomprehensible mess and he had no idea what to say so much emotion and he knew but he didn't and he had to say something anything SOMETHING…

"…but we're the good guys." Danny blurted.

Savior looked up.

"Excuse me Danny?"

"But…Savior…why…I mean…we're the good guys…we're…supposed to be on heaven's side…the side of the angels…why are…we…doing this…" Danny babbled and stammered.

Savior gave him a wry look.

"Having another crisis of faith?"

"I…I…."

"Danny…" Savior said, like he was talking to a small child. "I don't know if heaven exists or not, and I'm not really in the mood to argue theological matters. But there's a quote by Mark Twain I'll paraphrase for you. 'Heaven goes by favour. If it went by merit, you and I would stay out and our DOGS would get in.'"

"But…we're superheroes. Both of us. We should be mutually collieing…uh, currying, ah…"

"Collaborating?"

"Yeah, we should be doing that! Working together! Not…like…I mean…you're smart…but…you and I…we shouldn't have to agree to disagree…we're the same…"

The wry look was gone. The serious one was back.

"I mean…I…" Danny stammered.

"Danny." Savior said calmly. "Let me try and put this to you as best I can. We may both be champagne. Hell, we might be the same kind of champagne. But I am in a long necked crystal champagne flute, and you are in a Flintstone Jelly Glass. Now, you can drink champagne out of either, and it might very well taste the same, but believe me…there is a difference."

And to this…Danny found he had no reply.

"Now…will you please listen to me?"

"……………Ok."

"Good boy. Now take care of yourself, and if you exhale some burning gas, yell your head off. We'll be there." Savior said.

In a daze, Danny got up and left the room, as Savior pressed buttons on his communicator. Danny left the dining room the Titans had been in and made his way into the kitchen, where Tucker and Sam were.

"Danny!" Sam said, immediately knowing something was wrong. Danny looked like he was in a trance. And while Sam had listened at the door after Tucker had come back in and complained that he was never going to get any autographs with "that jerk Savior" holding court, it was a thick door and she couldn't make any details out, only hearing occasional words. By those words, she hadn't been able to fully tell what was going on, but she'd had suspicions.

But even she hadn't been prepared for what she saw when Danny came in. It was almost like the time Tucker had attempted to explain an immensely complicated computer system to Danny; it had also caused that semi-vacant stare in Danny's eyes that indicated that the lights were on but no one was really home. But that time, it had been comical. Here, it was horrifying, as if Danny had been given some dark secret of the universe that no human could have ever handled.

"Danny! What happened in there?" Sam said, as she leapt up from her chair, her planned act to play innocent considering that if Danny had entered the room a second earlier he would have knocked her over immediately forgotten. "Danny? Are you ok?"

"Oh…yeah Sam. I'm ok. Savior's making sure I'll be ok. He knows what he's doing." Danny said. While Tucker just heard a slightly dazed tone, Sam heard something else, something faint that she managed to pick up on. There was a taint of despair in Danny's voice…but…that made no sense…

"What do you mean?" Sam said as she led Danny to a chair. Danny sat down.

"Well…we talked it over…and they figured that because my powers aren't working at the moment it would be best to cut me out of the battle entirely."

"WHAT?" Sam and Tucker yelled at the same time.

"What? They shouldn't do that! You're the Halfa! You've been given special gifts that help you fight ghosts! Sizzle is a ghost! Why would they not want you around? Your powers will be back soon!" Tucker said.

"Yeah…but Savior…he said that I really don't know my powers. And I don't. I was just too busy…trying to have a life. You know, go to school, get passing grades, try and get a girlfriend…and try to help out when I could. But apparently that kept me from ever really learning how well I could use my powers, and now I'm groping around in the dark. With Sizzle…that could get me killed. Savior suggested that for now, I just keep my head down." Danny said.

Sam hadn't spoken because she was too busy digesting Danny's words, and they filled her with even greater horror.

"Danny…no. You're…you're Danny Phantom. You BELONG out there. You HAVE to be out there." Sam said.

"Sam…Savior knows best. He's…a pro at this. I'm…just a dumb rookie." Danny said. "Can I have some juice?"

Sam just stared in horror, not believing what had happened. This was worse then anything she had ever seen yet, and she had been privy to some things even Tucker had not seen, moments where Danny was down, where he wanted to quit, where he loathed himself for what he had become and how he simply could not shirk this damn responsibility that caused him so much grief…but underneath all that had been the strength Sam knew Danny possessed, a strength she knew would see him through, no matter what.

But not this time. This wasn't some teenage regret or angst. What had happened in that room had seemingly shattered Danny's entire sense of self, the strength that had carried him through torn up by the roots, pureed, and presented to him as a shapeless paste "because it was what was best for him". Everything that Danny was, everything that was so special about him, all the things that her care so deeply about him…tossed aside, judged, dismissed, and ground underfoot. Not what was wanted, therefore not wanted at all.

And for what?

To keep him safe, perhaps, but was that the true goal? There are ways to keep people safe other then locking them in a box and throwing away the key. There are ways to help people…and this wasn't one of them.

This wasn't about safety. This was about control.

And she knew exactly who had caused it. That white haired so called Savior, his name now truly seeming pretentious, denying he was a neo-con when he was acting exactly like one, a real manifestation of the effigies that Sam burned with those who thought like her, and he done it to Danny, done this to Danny because he had to keep everything under control on his board, writing off each time Danny had saved his life or tried to help as childish sillyness, because everything had to go this way, everyone had to listen, because they always knew what was best, always…

The anger awoke in Sam, hot and jagged, a feeling she was not used to but knew instinctively how to use, as she stood up, somehow keeping her face calm, as she went and got some orange juice for Danny, politely saying she would be right back, and went out another door from the kitchen, trying briefly to think if there was another way and swiftly deciding that no, this was the right way, the needed way, as she walked to another door and shoved it open, firmly but relatively quietly. The dining room was empty, but the next room, a comfortable lounge, was not

Savior was finishing off his communicator as he heard the door open, and he turned around to see Sam striding towards him. Had he turned around earlier, he might have gotten an idea about what was coming, but he had been busy and by the time he turned she was relatively close to him.

"Miss Manson." Savior said. "Can I…"

Sam's hand lashed out, the slap ringing through the whole room, smacking Savior's head to the side as effectively as any punch that had been thrown his way.

"HOW DARE YOU." Sam snarled. "Look at you. Look at you! You and your costume, clothing yourself in white…I've never seen such sickening hypocrisy in my life! Is it to hide the rot within? You, with your fancy jacket and crazy hair and official communicator…you have no idea what power your image has, does it? People look up to you! They listen to you! And you're so blind to it you don't have a single damn clue about what you're doing, and even if you did, I DOUBT YOU EVEN CARE!"

Savior had, by now, turned his head back to face Sam, but he kept his expression blank, as she stood up right before him, nearly pressing her body against his, her finger in his face and her voice filled with righteous rage.

"But then, why would you? After all, you're safe, cloaked in your title and your reputation. Thinking that everyone can be dismissed because they're not you. Thinking that everything should go as you see fit or else lose any value whatsoever. You claim you're not a neo con, you're right, you're not. YOU'RE A FASCIST! YOU'RE A GODDAMN NAZI!"

Still no answer, and that just made Sam angrier.

"Do you have ANY idea how special that boy is in there?" Sam said, pointing. "Do you have any idea what he's endured? What kind of questions he has to wrestle with? You ever think because he's not on a team and hasn't devoted his life to justice that he deserves absolutely no consideration whatsoever? You think because you've seen more and done more you're better? You like to quote? Here's a quote for you, you bastard: Malcolm X! 'You're not supposed to be so blind with patriotism that you can't face reality. Wrong is wrong, no matter who does it or who says it!' And while I suppose it's not patriotism that drives you, you and so many so called recent examples of it are EXACTLY the same." Sam growled. "You say you speak for freedom and yet you grind any of it underfoot if it clashes with what you want. You claim that no one defines reality and then you turn around and try and do it. You press on, acting like no others are there, plugging your ears, only knowing what you want to know, and you're not doing it now, you're not doing it to Danny, I don't care if you want to keep him alive or not, he doesn't deserve it, and he doesn't deserve your scorn, your condensation, your outright hypocrisy, he doesn't deserve it, he's a hero, a real hero and you're just a corrupted facsimile of one, and how dare you HOW DARE YOU!" Sam screamed, as she drew back her hand for another blow.

Savior caught it this time.

Sam tried to pull away and found she could not. While the grip was not painful, it was absolute, like iron.

"You only get one free shot. That was it." Savior said.

Sam attempted to strike with her other hand: Savior grabbed it and transferred both hands to his grip before she even knew what had happened. Now he was holding both her arms above her head, leaving her completely exposed.

Despite what followed, Sam never thought she was in any physical danger. She knew Savior wasn't going to actually hit her or anything in that vein. Despite how little she thought of him, she knew he wasn't the type of dull witted brute who just smacked a woman when she got lippy. No…he had something else in mind.

And in the end, it might have been worse.

"Malcolm X said something else too." Savior said quietly, seemingly not even noticing that Sam was trying to pull free; the only reason she wasn't kicking him was because she knew he'd pull out that Shimmer power of his and keep her away from him. "'I believe in the brotherhood of man, all men, but I don't believe in brotherhood with anybody who doesn't want brotherhood with me. I believe in treating people right, but I'm not going to waste my time trying to treat somebody right who doesn't know how to return that treatment.' I knew from the beginning that you and I didn't share the same views Sam. I was accepting of that. I tried to be tactful, to be a gentlemen…but that's the thing about the people like you Sam. You assume that because we don't speak, we have nothing to say, so you do all the talking, fill the air with it. For another paraphrased quote, 'You lack the power of conversation but not the power of speech.' George Bernard Shaw. But you have made it abundantly clear that politeness does not matter, that one shall speak one's mind. Ok then young lady. You want to hear my mind, you GOT IT." Savior said, as his expression changed. Sam had been busy trying to get free from his grip, and had only been listening half-heartedly. Having realized that escaping was unlikely, she had aggravatingly swallowed her pride and decided she had best start screaming…and then she saw his face, and everything was forgotten to her.

What was in his face wasn't rage, or hatred. But it was something fierce and powerful, and while, as mentioned, Sam did not feel physically threatened or in any danger of being hurt…the look froze her. She had never had that happen to her…but she was young. Smart, determined, zealous…but young.

And sometimes…that lone factor can become an absolute.

"You speak of how I think. Well let me tell you a little story of how YOUR kind thinks. It's about a little war, a black mark on the heart of a country. Happened in a place called Vietnam. Big mess. Terrible terrain, merciless enemy with sadistic, sick hearts, poor boys plucked from their homes and given only the bare bones of training and then thrust into a situation that would have destroyed even the most hardened soldier…but the thing that really, really pisses me off were the people who weren't even involved in the war. The ones back home who said it was wrong and that it should be stopped. Your kind." Savior said. "Let me tell you about your kind. Sure, you were allowed to say it. It's a free country, say what you will. You could have your marches and your sit ins and put flowers in guns. Fine, I can live with that. What I cannot live with, what irritates me so much, is something that you don't understand to this day. You did not attempt to UNDERSTAND. All you did is DISTORT AND PROJECT. You speak to ME of distorting things until it only fits my views, you are the CHAMPIONS of that. And you take your distortions, and you project them onto everybody, saying how it is shared all over the world and that everyone would be happy if it was just listened to. And in these twin things you show a lack of intelligence and understanding so deep and destructive that it makes me SICK. You ranted on and on and on on how the war was evil, and illegal, and terrible, and then you turned around and spat on the soldiers coming home and called them baby killers. You yelled for years for the leaders of the country to get out of Vietnam, never understand that Vietnam was a linchpin to the very thing that LET you say such things without being jailed, tortured, executed, and buried in mass graves. You NEVER looked at the big picture, how Vietnam was just part of a larger plan to try and keep the Soviet Union, then believed to be a terrible evil power that could easily conquer and destroy the world, contained. And most of all, and this is what burns me the most, you yelled for so long that people eventually listened to you and took all the troops out…which gave nearby Cambodia confidence that no one would interfere with them, not after so many of the United States' own people told them not to, and they initiated the Killing Fields, a genocide that claimed at LEAST a million lives, at LEAST, more then TWICE of all the combat deaths of Vietnam! Now I will admit it was a mess, that Vietnam should be remembered for several reasons, but the one you never remember, and never accept, is that sometimes for the greater good sacrifices have to be made. I know how hard it is to accept that when young American boys are being butchered or coming back insane…but in the end, it was part of a larger strategic plan, a plan you never understood. You never could see the forest for the trees! And it caused a mass murder in Cambodia that left the Vietnam kill count in the dust. So lay the blood of those poor American boys and Vietnamese babies on 'our' hands, if you will, but I lay EVERY SINGLE DEATH IN CAMBODIA ON YOURS!"

"You…" Sam tried to speak.

"SHUT UP. You're not going to talk for once. You're going to listen. Let's tell another tale. How about the people who were supporting Marxism and Communism during the Cold War, saying how the Soviet Union was misunderstood and how they dearly wanted peace but the big bad United States couldn't stop their pissing contest to give it to them, never mind that the Soviet Union was slaughtering and starving millions while they stayed in their safe, free country and spoke of matters they could never understand. Or how about forcing social reforms on all the Southern states, states that were very set in their ways and needed very careful teaching, not a hammer. The truths of the social reforms are moot, what matters is that they were not READY for change and yet you FORCED them to change. The South used to be completely Democratic, you know. Your actions switched their side. There's a certain irony in that, I suppose: in your attempts to do misguided good with your power you assured that you may never be able to claim such power for a long while."

"You…"

"Quiet miss. Oh, I know. One of my favorites. Hitler defeating France and kicking the British army out, and then coming to Churchill with a peace offer. Churchill refused it. Hitler said Churchill was for war and against peace. I bet that if your kind had existed in that England in large numbers, you would have battered Churchill down until he accepted it, or just removed him entirely and put in someone who shared your views that everything would be all right if you just tried to get along with everybody. And the looks on their faces ten years later when Hitler had built up his navy and marched across the sea to completely crush Britain, their tanks grinding over their bodies when they screamed that there was supposed to be peace. Churchill understood something your kind never does, miss. PEACE HAS A PRICE. And for him, it was too high. You would have never seen that. You never do. You live in the here and now, in a world of abstract righteousness where everyone will be ok just as soon as we've fixed all these sins, past and present. Never mind that you can't change the past and it's not right to blame those in the present for the past's sins, but hey, that never stops you! You think that everything is best when no one boos for any reason when a person walks down a street. Well miss, something your kind never grasps is that no one boos a CABBAGE when it walks down the street EITHER!"

Sam finally knew what that look was, the look that kept her from trying to get free. It was a look of utter, blistering CONTEMPT. And despite her anger at what Savior had done to Danny, at her rage towards his actions…she felt it starting to burrow through her defenses, starting to chip away at her ideals and beliefs, not because she heard a strong ring of truth in his voice, but because it was so powerful, so fierce, so determined…and so old.

It was horrifying in a sense, that a young man could speak with a voice so aged…a tragedy…and yet…so inevitable.

There was another voice too, speaking in the back of Noel's head, telling him that he was going too far, that he had gone past the need to be firm and was in the territory of being outright nasty, but the larger part of him shouted it down, because he was sick of it all, sick of the people who yelled at him for what he did without ever realizing that the only reason they were alive to do such a thing was because of him, and he had everything planned here, and he was going to carry the plan out, keep everyone safe, give them the life liberty and opportunity for happiness that they were promised and he wasn't letting ANYTHING stand in the way of that, especially not this stupid teenage girl who thought she knew life when all she knew was what someone had shit in her brain and forgot to flush…

"You are an idealist Miss Manson. You all are. Do you know what an idealist is, according to H.L Mencken? An idealist is one who, on noticing that rose smells better then a cabbage, concludes that it will also make better soup. You are people who think in abstracts that do not match up to reality, abstracts you then try and force on everything, believing that it is the commonly held belief of the world, they just haven't realized it. And then you pat yourself on the back and tell yourself you've done well, you've made it better, you've righted past wrongs, and you move on. And then…I have to come in. Me and all MY kind. And we have to clean up YOUR MESSES. The messes you made because you thought your idea was oh so great and were so assured everyone shared, WHEN THEY DIDN'T! All ideas have four stages, Miss Manson. First they are mocked, then they are violently opposed, then they are accepted as self evident, and then they are made TO DO TOO MUCH WORK. Do you know who always initiates the forth step? Do you? DO YOU? DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE? YOU ARE A WORLDWIDE CADRE OF SHIT DISTURBERS! AND WE HAVE TO BE THE ONES TO MAKE SURE YOU DON'T WAKE UP ONE DAY AND FIND THAT THE BARBARIANS ARE AT THE GATE RAPING YOUR WIFE AND EATING YOUR CHILDREN!" Savior snarled/screamed. By now he had leaned so close to Sam their faces were almost touching, and Sam was trying to get back, and trying to find the right words, the words to show him how wrong he was the words that would crush him for what he had done but there was nothing there and everything was crumbling and she knew she wasn't like this she was strong she was tough but she was also young just a girl and it was crashing down and she could feel it stabbing at her and dammit she could feel herself on the verge of tears and she couldn't be she was strong and sometimes that didn't matter a bit because for every strength there's a greater one and this one was about to grind her underfoot and she wanted to fight not cry she would not cry but she no not cry no tears…

"So let me tell you how it is GOING to go, MISS MANSON. You are going to sit down, and you are going to SHUT UP, and you are going to STAY that way until we have managed to save the day and deal with Sizzle by fair means or foul because against something like her, a hug isn't going to work. I am going to keep your boyfriend alive, I am going to keep everyone you care about alive, and I am going to do it because it is what I do, what I have trained myself to do, what I live and may one day DIE to do, and believe me little girl I won't ever be faltering because of your bullshit nonsense. So you march back out that door, and you get the hell out of my hair, and you let the ADULTS and the REAL PEOPLE in this world do their jobs, and above all else don't you ever DARE tell me how to live my life BECAUSE YOU NEVER HAVE AND NEVER WILL EARN THE RIGHT TO DO SO!"

A small sob escaped Sam's throat.

And the hand grabbed Savior's shoulder, whirling him around, Savior automatically releasing the grip on Sam's hands, as Danny belted him across the face as hard as he could.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Danny bellowed, as Savior's head snapped back again, as Sam, free of his grip, found her legs losing their strength as she leaned back and found a wall behind her, resting against it as Savior turned his face back to Danny.

"You DON'T want to fight me kid." Savior said. His eyes had gone past contempt, they had gone all the way to dangerous, the same look that had shone out from Savior's eyes when he had faced some of his most cruel and sadistic foes...and the fact that such eyes were being shown to Danny did not make him back off, did not strike at him like they used to, no, because when Danny had walked in and stared in shock for a few seconds as Savior bit Sam's metaphorical head off he finally found the right words that he had not been able to find.

No, the fact that Savior was now looking at Danny like he was an enemy…that just gave him the strength to go on.

"No. You're right Savior. I don't want to fight you. Because this situation is not about you, and quite frankly it's a shame that you've decided it is!"

Savior had been expecting many answers: that had not been one of them.

"…….What?" He said, as the look faded just a bit, and in that Danny finally realized something: that despite his experience and skill and brain and almost malignant ability to worm into your head and make you think that everything you knew was wrong…Savior was just as human as him. And that gave him what he needed to go on.

"You heard me. This situation is not about you Savior. It's not about how your plans are being messed with, or that your opinions are the right ones, or even the fact that your leadership is not absolute. And it is damn sure not about what you lost a long time, things that you are quite determined to stomp out in me so that NO ONE will have them!"

"What? I…"

"No no, YOU listen now. Is this a superhero? The equivalent of a mass market CD, a glossy package with nothing left inside? A bitter, cynical jerk that can't stand the fact that those around him might have the things he once had? Someone who is willing to go so far for such pitiful gains? You said innocence was a liability Savior, well, there's a difference between a liability and a need to be eliminated. Just because I don't think like you do, does not mean I have to be beaten down until I do think like that, and just because my friends try and support me doesn't mean you have to tear out their support by the roots because they'll impede my so called need to become like you! But that's the thing Savior: I'm NOT LIKE YOU. And I DON'T WANT TO BE. I don't care how much of a tactical advantage being dead inside will give me, I don't care if you think the fact that I haven't given up on the people I serve makes me weak and foolish, I don't care that I still have some of the light inside that was snuffed out from your being a long time ago, light you see as a weakness and yet something you wish you still had and from that something you RESENT me for having. But that does not give you the right to TRY AND DESTROY IT. Really…shame on you."

"But…"

"You like to toss out quotes Savior. Here's one for you. I might not read philosophy books but I read Dear Abby, so here's a bit of wisdom from Abigail Van Buren that I don't need all your great thinkers and writers for. 'The best index to a person's character is how he treats people who can't do him any good, and how he treats people who can't fight back.' If we define the world by that, you fail Savior. And fail terribly. And that makes me so sad I can't even find the will to stay angry at you."

Savior opened his mouth…and found, just like Danny, that nothing was coming out except stuttering nonsense. He couldn't believe it…how could this rookie go around all his experience and will and reduce him to this, it should have been impossible…

…Except he was right.

"No. Don't say anything. You don't have anything left to say that I need." Danny said. "I will say the last word here. You spoke of how I was too young, too green, to claim Amity Park as my own. Well, screw you. I'm planting my flag. This is MY TOWN. MY TURF. And while Sizzle was once your enemy, she is now MY enemy. And I will stand, and I will fight her, and I will do my damndest to save the day, because THAT'S WHAT HEROES DO. And if you haven't forgotten that Savior, well, I'd be glad to have you by my side, and I'd be glad to be by yours. But know this. This is not something you can talk around, or change, or fix, or alter, or anything. This is MY battle too, and my LIFE. This is my YARD, AND MY WORLD. So like they say about the States, you can do one of two things. LOVE IT, OR LEAVE IT!" Danny yelled, pointing out the window.

Savior stared, utterly flabbergasted, and then he opened his mouth again…

And found nothing at all.

Danny walked around Savior, to Sam, who still looked highly upset.

"C'mon Sam." Danny said, as he slipped her arm under his shoulder and carried her like she was wounded. "It's ok. Things will be ok now." Danny said, as he helped Sam out of the room.

Savior watched them go, and once they were gone, he closed his mouth…then opened it again…then closed it…then opened it as he raised his finger…then closed it…

And then he found himself staring at his hand. Both of them.

His legs weren't working well suddenly. He needed a seat. He stumbled over and found one, sitting down, and found himself staring after where Danny and Sam had gone.

And then, he let out a long, mournful sigh, and looked down at the ground, down at the dirt, where in the end was where he had ended up.

And the worst part was…in the end he belonged there.

See, Told You. To Be Continued.