"Talking"

'Thoughts'

Flashbacks

Disclaimer: Don't own Danny Phantom

Chapter II

It looked at him through glazed crimson eyes and Freak Show studied it through the mirror, pausing in his work of repainting his face white and placing in his red contacts. The ghost child's face was impassive, unlike it's earlier expression of defiance and indifference; the smirk that tugged on it's lips and the insolence that played across it's eyes. For the past two days, ever since that blasted girl fell off the train, it's mood had changed into an almost depressive state--but if the new emotion didn't interfere with it's ability to steal at Freak Show's will, then he didn't object.

"Perhaps," Freak Show spoke aloud reaching out to grab his staff and caress the globe thoughtfully. "Since everyone is bound to know who I am by now, corrupter of children," he smirked, "Then we should move our delectable circus to another state entirely."

The ghost child made no acknowledgement of approval or distaste, pleasing Freak Show.

"Perhaps new attire would be in order, eh, my pet?" Freak Show asked expecting no response and getting none. "I have already picked out your costume, black being the color of course." He threw a wad of swarthy clothes at the feet of the ghost child and ordered him to put it on.

Freak Show also arranged for his other minions to wear similar garments and he had bitterly decided to have them perform new tricks so to not arouse suspicion, though it would take a while for his brilliant mind to come up with a whole new performance. Perhaps a death-defying acrobatic trick, or a sword swallowing gallery, or--

Freak Show turned back to the ghost child expecting to see his masterpiece adorned on it, but the lump of clothes remained on the floor and the ghost didn't move an inch. Pounding his staff on the ground, Freak Show angrily screeched, "Put those clothes on now, slave!" The ghost's eyes glowed redder than usual but it still refused to acknowledge the bundle right at it's feet nor the command of Freak Show.

"Why you, stupid--" Freak Show's phone vibrated on the table and fell with a thud to the floor. Quickly reaching down he grabbed it and opened it nervously.

"Yes?"

"Why, hello there, Freak Show," the smooth voice replied. "I hope you haven't forgotten our little arrangement."

Freak Show licked his lips and placed the phone between his ear and shoulder freeing up his hands. "Of course not," he replied picking up the pile of clothes and sorting through them, giving his hands-- and mind-- something to do. "It'll be ready soon, but not before I have some fun with it." Taking a black tunic, Freak Show pulled it over the ghost child's head, then fitted a jerkin of the same color over it.

"Just as we agreed, you'll prepare him to become my unconditional slave, and I'll give you whatever you desire," the voice crisped.

Freak Show decided to leave the grey boots on as he found that the ghost would not move for him to remove them and he grunted as he tugged at it's grey gloves that slipped off less than smoothly.

"I hope he's not being... difficult," the voice held some amusement upon hearing the grumble.

"Well," Freak Show started "It's not fully under my control, yet. Don't worry, it will be soon."

"It?"

Freak Show fumbled. "Yes," he laughed, recovering. "You don't actually think it has feelings or emotions for that mater? All ghosts are insensible aberration only here on in this world for one purpose: to be controlled."

There was a long hiatus on the other line and Freak Show almost thought he lost the connection.

"Don't underestimate him," the voice smoldered after a while then click.

It was blurred undeniably so. Sam remembers falling--the feeling, if only for a few seconds, made her stomach churn in aversion--and her hands latched onto something cold and metallic as her fingernail screeched for closure. She had banged her head against the side of the train and felt a trickle of blood ooze down her ear and dribble off her chin.

"Danny, NO!"

At the moment of hanging on for dear life Sam didn't reminisce about her existence, from the earliest she could remember till now. No, the only image that was repeated over and over in her dreams, in her conscious thought was seeing her best friend, dear, Danny Fenton/Phantom smirk at her and say, cockily:

"I'm a ghost... I have no friends..."

If it wasn't bad enough that Sam felt the nagging guilt of introducing Danny to Circus Gothica in the first place, but to add to it the agonizing defeat of finding the she could not help him break the control over his mind plagued Sam for the past two days.

"You know, you couldn't have done anything to stop him."

"But he was so close..." Sam replied back then realizing she didn't voice the concern turned and watched Tucker Foley stand at her doorway. "Tucker, what are you doing here?"

Tucker smiled quirkishly and came to sit beside Sam on her bed. "I was just hoping now that Danny's out of the way you and I can spend more time together." Sam didn't look up from her hands to yell at him about 'not liking Danny that way' or chastising his joke in such a serous time and Tucker's smile fell.

"Come on, Sam. Cheer up. If Danny were here he wouldn't like you being all moody," he said then added quietly, "Well more than you usually are for being a goth."

"That's just it, Tucker. He's not here and... we may never see him again." Just then the phone rang and Sam answered it immediately.

"Hey, Sam."

It was Jazz and Samantha bit her lip, weakly replying, "Hi."

There was a pause. "So, how are you feeling?"

"Alright figuring I have a slight concussion from banging my head against the train."

Another pause. "Listen, Sam. I'll get right to the point. I know you know about Danny and I want some answers."

"Why would you think I know any more about Danny than what I told the police?" Sam stammered and Tucker perked up at their conversation. Samantha motioned for him to grab an extra phone in her living room.

"Because I know you have been keeping his secret for him... and I also know this has something to do with that secret."

"I don't know what you mean," Sam lied but kicked herself mentally. It would do no harm now that Danny's gone...

"I don't think it's wise to talk about this over the phone. You know where my house is, Jazz?"

"I'll find it. See you in 15 minutes."