"What do you want with me?" he cried out in desperation.

"I want you all for myself," Silver replied from somewhere in the darkness. "I want you to let me in, and let me be one with you. I'm so lonely…"

The fog was gone, Danny realized as he slowly awoke. Silver's dream world was always shrouded in fog, but that time, it wasn't. He idly wondered what that could mean as he pulled himself to a sitting position. His head was pounding from being thrown against the wall; his body ached from being ripped in half; and the thought that Silver had taken over his ghost form made him shudder in revulsion. Then he remembered the kiss and started to gag.

At last, he pulled himself to his feet and looked around. The lab seemed to be intact. Since he no longer had access to powers of any kind, that was a very good thing. "Silver!" he called. Either she wasn't there, or she was ignoring him. Probably the latter. With a disgruntled sigh, he set about trying to locate his mother's latest creation.

After battling the malefactors in Baltimore, Maddie had created an ecto-rifle that would work on physical manifestations. Supposedly, it used ectoplasmic energy blasts that worked on the same frequency as a ghost's, as opposed to the Fentons' usual stock. It had yet to be named, although Jack had toyed with calling it the Fenton Monster Rifle. No one else in the family cared for the name.

As he was looking around for anything else he could use, there was a crash from upstairs. He froze, the cautiously called out, "Mom?" When no response was forthcoming, he started quietly up the steps and tentatively called out to his other family members. He hoped they just couldn't hear him, but he was afraid Silver had kidnapped them.

He paused in the threshold to the gloomy kitchen, suddenly reminded of every horror movie he had ever seen. How many times had he told the various main characters not to go upstairs, or downstairs, or that way? And now, he found himself repeating their often fatal mistakes. It quite abruptly hit him that he was only human, and he started to shake and back away.

What was he thinking? Phantom was gone; Silver had taken that part of him, along with his powers. All that was left was the all-too-mortal Danny Fenton. He started to dash back to the lab, intending to hide out there. He had to do something, and he would as soon as it was daylight and most of the monsters were gone.

They would be gone, right? He stopped again, wracked with indecision. Sure, the malefactors might be gone, but so would half the town. He couldn't just sit around while people were being killed out there.

He sank down to the steps and put his head in hands. "What do I?" he muttered, the picture of misery. Something else crashed and reminded him that there was something in the house with him. He scrambled to his feet and took two more steps downwards before stopping again.

Maybe he didn't have his powers, but he was still a Fenton, darn it. With a display of considerably more courage than he actually felt, he charged upstairs and slid to a surprised stop.

Maddie stood at the sink, staring at the wall before her. She was faded, and Danny had the feeling that it wasn't really her. However, Silver's illusions always seemed so real, so it couldn't have been her. Then the apparition turned slowly, and it wasn't his mother anymore.

It looked like a woman made out of fog. Although she was faded, he could see that she was paler than most people, even those who didn't spend much time in the sun. Her long, ratty hair was a shade of blonde that almost looked white. "She killed me…" she whispered, reaching out to Danny.

He wanted to run; he wanted to scream; he wanted to faint. Torn between actions, he found that he could only stand helplessly as the creature that had once been Silver's mother put a claw-like hand on his head.

A door creaked slowly open, and a white haired girl crept into the room, her favorite pillow clasped protectively before her. "Hello, mother," she said softly.

"Oh, Meryll, you shouldn't-" She broke off as her body was wracked with a coughing fit. Drawing a shuddering breath, she continued. "You'll catch it, too, baby. Go on back to Daddy."

"The doctor said the flu is deadly," the little girl persisted, coming closer. "He told father you won't live."

She tried to smile encouragingly. "Sweetie, I promise you. I'm not going anywhere."

The girl nodded, and she was suddenly alarmed by her child's calm acceptance. "I know you won't," she replied, lifting the pillow over her mother's face and holding it there. "I'll make sure of that."

Danny fell back into the present gasping for air. He lunged back and nearly fell down the stairs, but the woman had vanished. He spent a few minutes waiting for his heart rate to slow, then yelled and nearly fell down the stairs again when the small television flickered to static-plagued life. "Killjoy!" he exclaimed, one hand over his heart as thought he could make it slow down. "Don't…do that!"

The early nineteen hundred's psychiatrist chuckled superiorly. "Having a bit of trouble, are we, my boy?" He pretended not to hear the boy's rebellious grumbling. "This city's hospital does have a decent psychiatric ward, if I do say so. Certainly much more interesting than mine was, but then the technology has advanced quite considerably in eighty years."

"What do you want now?" Danny interrupted.

Killjoy shook his head and paced across the screen. "Only to help see you through the dark times ahead, my boy. For they will be dark, I assure you. Your little experiment has done more than rid you of our dear Meryll's presence. It has released a collective entity known as the Malice, which is made up of the lives she has stolen over the years."

Danny sighed. "And I'm sure they all want me dead."

"Not dead, my boy. They want to make you like themselves. I was able to drive away Adrianna, but I doubt I shall be able to do so a second time. You must be on your guard at all times.

"Now, as I am certain your next question will relate to Silver's current plans and whereabouts, I'm afraid I do not know. All I can tell you is that she has spent the day collecting all the people you care for, and has locked them up somewhere. I fear you will be forced to play her game again if you wish to rescue them."

At some point during the speech, the shaken boy had sunk into a chair. He looked up slightly from where he had buried his head in his arms to fix Killjoy with a skeptical glare. He was a fourteen-year-old kid; what could he possibly do against a thirty-year-old psychic who now had ghost powers in addition to her mental powers? He had an ecto-rifle that he wasn't even certain would work versus slayers, gorgers, mainliners, marksmen, and whatever else the city decided to throw at him.

He dropped his head again mumbled into his arm, "What am I supposed to do about it?" After a few minutes, he looked to see that Killjoy had gone. Of course. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked again, quietly.

The few remnants left over from his other half clambered for him to do something, anything. Anything was better than sitting around, and he had a job to do. He was hero, and people needed his help.

But he was human. There was nothing he could do.

Of course, his parents were only human, as well, his conscience argued. Ebony Angel and Valerie were only human. Police were only human; firemen were only human. In fact, he was, quite possibly, the only hero in the world who wasn't only human. So maybe, just maybe, being human didn't mean you were helpless.

He still would have felt better about facing those slayers if he had his ghost powers, but he stood and retrieved the ecto-rifle from where he had dropped it. His conscience was right, after all. Maybe he was just a fourteen-year-old kid, but he was a Fenton. And Fentons never turned their backs on people in need.

Something black and white flashed across the corner of his eye. "I see you there!" he called, following. No response. He was mildly surprised that she hadn't taken the opportunity to taunt him, but he shrugged it off.

He stopped suddenly and grinned, then dashed downstairs. Maybe the malefactors couldn't be hurt by ghost hunting weapons, and maybe the Malice couldn't either. He wasn't looking forward to finding out. Silver, however, was a different story. As long as she possessed his ghost half, she could be trapped in the Fenton Thermos. What he would do with her after he caught her, he didn't know. He would figure it out when he got there.

Rifle in hand and Fenton Thermos slung over his back, he set off again. He felt very out of his depth, and he was more scared than he had ever been in his life, but he had to do something. If he didn't stop Silver, who would?

A/N: Ah, so much better. To not actually answer a question since that would be against rules, the missing element was terror. Without his humanity, Danny can't be scared. It was a good idea, I still think, but the point of this little trilogy is to scare the tar out of him and make him question reality and his own morality. He can't do that if he can't feel emotion.

So, in my attempt to salvage the situation, I came up with varying ideas that simply wound up making it worse. At least, from my point of view. I wasn't having fun; that's why I've been updating so slowly of late. Well, after New Years. It's always hectic around Christmas, but the past couple weeks, I've just been too lazy because I wasn't having fun. This is better. nodnod