THE MONDAY AFTER
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Danny Phantom. Butch Hartman does.
PART TWO: THE AWAKENING
The mold was resting after a particularly long and grueling night of growing and spreading. It was very nearly asleep when a ruckus woke it. Loud angry voices, crashing, banging, and screaming. Stachy shuddered. Had it been discovered? Would the burning and scraping begin again? It could barely stand the thought of going through that horror once more.
More crashing, more loud voices; the mold tried, but could only make out bits and pieces of what was being said.
"Get away!"
BOOM!
"Give me my MEAT!"
Bump, bump, crash!
"Danny! Look out!"
"Huh?"
"Behind you!"
Thunk!
"Ooooffff!"
"Danny! No!"
"Ahhhhh!"
Thud!
Splat!
A drop of a cold, slimey substance struck the mold; the shock of it awoke it fully.
What is this? Stachy wondered. So cold . . . yet so . . . alive.
More aware, it listened for more voices, but now, there was silence – whatever had been going on was over now and the basement was empty. The mold cautiously examined the substance that touched it; it smelled odd, but not bad. Stachy tentatively ingested some of the slime, and found it quite delicious. The mold began to feel better, stronger, the more of the substance it absorbed.
Yes! It thought. This is what I need! This is what I've been waiting for!
Stachy felt alive, more alive than it ever had. And it grew. It grew fast and strong. It wouldn't be long before the mold would be strong enough to exact its revenge on the one who was responsible for destroying it: the one they called Lancer.
"What I can't figure out is what the Lunch Lady ghost was so mad about," Sam said. "They put meat back on the menu!"
"And thank goodness," Tucker responded. "Otherwise I would've starved to death!"
Sam, Tucker and Danny headed towards a grassy hill across the court yard from Casper High; the final bell of the day still echoed in the air. The late afternoon sun was hot, and they stopped under a large, shady tree, dropping their backpacks and popping open cans of soda.
"I didn't think to ask what her problem was," Danny admitted, settling under the tree. "I just fought her."
"Well, maybe you should start asking," Sam suggested standing to one side of him. "Who knows? Maybe some ghosts just have a little problem that would be solved some way other than fighting."
Danny lightly touched his upper arm where the Lunch Lady ghost had cut him with a flying cleaver, and thought about what Sam said. "You may have a point, Sam," he said thoughtfully. "I guess I just assume the worst of every ghost I see."
"That's because every ghost you've ever met has been bad," Tucker said, leaning against the tree opposite Sam.
"But, not all of them have been," Danny corrected, remembering. "The Dairy King set me free from Plasmius' containment device, and Cujo was only mean because he wanted his squeaky toy. I bet if we saw him now, he'd be a perfectly friendly ghost dog."
"You may be right about those two, Danny," Tucker conceded. "But the bad ghost guys greatly outnumber the good ones."
"That's true."
"I still think you should trying talking to them first," Sam insisted, her arms crossed in front of her. "Find out what they want!"
"Well, I say fight first and ask questions later," Tucker replied defiantly.
"Talk!"
"Fight!"
"Talk!"
"Fight!"
"Guys! Please! Stop!"
Tucker and Sam stopped yelling and turned to Danny. "Sorry, Tuck, but I think Sam might be on to something," he said.
"What?" Tucker exclaimed.
"Ha!" Sam gloated.
"No, really, if you think about it, it makes sense," Danny continued looking up at both his friends in turn. "If I can find out what a ghost's problem is, or find out what it wants, I might be able to help, and might not have to fight!"
"Oh, yeah," Tucker said sarcastically. "You should do that. Talk to 'em first. I'm sure they just busted out of the Ghost Zone for a little conversation!"
Danny sighed. "Tucker!"
"No, no, Danny, I mean it!" Tucker continued. "It's a brilliant idea! Hey! I know! Maybe you could try out that technique on Dash, too!"
"What are you talking about, Tucker?" Danny asked, though he wasn't sure he really wanted to know.
"You could ask him why he's always out to get you. I'm sure he'd just love to sit down and chat about whatever's bugging him!"
Danny sighed again. Beside him, Sam growled.
"Oh, sure! Just make fun of it, why don't you?" Sam cried. "You know what your problem is, Tucker? If someone has an idea you don't understand, you just dismiss it!"
"That's not true!"
"Yes, it is," Sam said.
"Please," Danny moaned, his voice muffled as his face was in his hands. "You guys, please!"
"Danny, are you okay?" Sam asked, concerned.
"Yeah, but I'm sick of all the yelling," Danny answered.
"I'm sorry," said Sam.
"I'm sorry, too," Tucker echoed.
"It's just . . ." Danny's voice drifted off as he sighed. "It's just, you know, I've been doing this ghost fighting thing for months now, and I just keep thinking . . . " Danny's ghost sense went off before he could finish his thought. "Gah! What now?"
Danny stood and phased into ghost mode, then rose off the ground in search of the creature who interrupted him.
"Danny!" Sam called after him. "Try talking to it first!"
"Hey, can I finish your soda?" Danny was about to tell Tucker absolutely not! when a collective scream and stampeeding herd of teachers and a few students exiting Casper High caught his attention. He flew off in the direction of the ruckus, dove through a window then through a closed door, and soon came face to face with his cardboard-loving nemisis, the Box Ghost, in an empty hallway. Danny sighed.
"Hey!" He called.
The Box Ghost turned.
"What are you doing here?" Danny asked.
"Huh?" The Box Ghost replied.
"What are you doing here!" Danny repeated. "What do you want?"
"I am the Box Ghost!"
"I know who you are," Danny said with annoyance. "I asked you want you want!"
The Box Ghost hovered in the air, staring in amazement at Danny.
"What do I . . ."
"Want! Want! What do you want!"
"Uhh . . . a box?"
Danny sighed exasperatedly. "Fine. Wait here."
He flew through the ceiling and around to the back of the school where the dumpsters were lined up along the brick wall. He looked in and around the dumpsters until he found what he was looking for.
"Ah ha!" He exclaimed as he picked up a medium sized carboard box that was still in pretty good shape. "This oughta keep that Box Ghost busy for a while!"
He dumped the contents out into a nearby dumpster, then returned to the school corridor.
The ghost was hovering exactly where Danny had left him; a look of curiosity and confusion of his chubby blue face. Danny shoved the empty box at him.
"Here," he said. "Here's a box. Now go away!"
The Box Ghost stared in awe at the gift presented to him.
"Go on," Danny said waving his hands at the ghost. "Shoo!"
"Oh. Okay," the stunned specter replied, and slowly rose up through the ceiling.
Danny was just about to return to his friends, when the Box Ghost's head materialized through the ceiling.
"I almost forgot," the ghost said. "BEWARE! Oh, and, thanks for the box!"
Then he was gone again. Danny couldn't help but smile at the rather odd exchange. "At least I walked away from that one without any bruises," he said to himself, then flew back to the grassy hill where Sam and Tucker were waiting for him.
"Well?" Sam demanded before Danny had even returned to his human form. "What happened?"
"Yeah," Tucker said. "You don't look like you've been in a ghost fight."
"That's because I wasn't," Danny answered. "It was the Box Ghost again."
"And?" Sam and Tucker said together.
"And, I took Sam's advice. I asked him what he wanted."
"And?" Danny's friends said again.
"And, he told me."
"And?"
"He wanted a box," Danny replied with a shrug.
Sam did a face slap and Tucker groaned. Danny snickered at his friends.
"So, what happened?" Sam asked through clenched teeth.
"So, I found him a box," Danny answered. "I gave it to him, told him to leave, and he left."
Sam and Tucker stared dumbfounded at their smirking friend, then a slow smile spread across Sam's face.
"It worked!" She cried, triaumphantly punching the sky with her fist. "You got a ghost to go away without a fight just by talking to it!"
"Yup."
"Oh, come on," Tucker said. "It was just the Box Ghost! I'd like to see you use that trick on a really dangerous ghost!"
"I will!" Danny said. His patience used up, he stormed away from his friends. "Just you wait, Tucker, I will!"