I apologize to all of my readers so far, three and hope you forgive me. However, Dema is seeing red, and will use language not suitable for those under the age of 17 to use.

Apologies

-Adrianna-


"Is she going to pull out?"

I don't know"

Do you think she can get better?"

"If her coma doesn't get worse, probably"

"Can we see her?"

A long silence let her relax a bit, before annoyance lifted her mind once more.

"Yes…But don't be long. I don't know how she will cope with loud noises."

"Don't worry, We will be quiet."

The sound of a door opening and closing, footsteps causing her to stir slightly, blissfully unaware of what had happened, memory rejecting what had happened. The thick scent of hospital sanitizer hit her full in the face, but she did not react, perfectly content to ignore the smell and sleep.

"Danny… Are you sure this is the best idea? Overshadowing may be able to heal Jazz, but you don't know what it will do to someone with a head injury."

An Aura of cold washed over the girl, despite being under blankets. She shifted in annoyance, ignorant to the fact she had been in a coma for the last few hours, after popping up in mid air, and falling two stories.

Thank God for well-placed pools.

Cold swept over her body, coming from the hand that had been placed on her forehead. Dema tried to move away, though she found she was still weak from whatever had happened. All she managed was a futile twitch to the side.

"I have to help her somehow."

Demetra's back arched upward, inhaling sharply as her dark eyes snapped open. She let out a feral snarl, closing her eyes and focusing on the intruding spirit.

She quickly identified the invader, attacking it with all the fierceness she could muster. Her body felt cold, but she ignored the discomfort, banishing the invader from her system. A yelp of protest met her ears, as well as a loud /thunk/ as someone was thrown bodily against the wall.

"Danny!"

There was that voice again! Who was that?

Demetra tried sitting upright, finding her stomach muscles unable to function properly. So, she rolled to the side, nearly toppling an IV stand before being able to sit upright.

Glancing distastefully at the cold white décor, she turned her navy eyes toward the startled threesome.

One of them was just getting to his feet, staring at her in shock. He possessed electric blue eyes and jet black hair, the strands nearly covering one eye. Just like the portrait.

Just like her father as a teen.


A few seconds later, nurses were filing into the room, ushering the three teenagers out with clearly startled faces.

They offered no resistance, though the blue-eyed male glanced at her as he exited, shock and confusion still plain on his face.

A few hours and several painful, made-up-on-the-spot explanations later, Demetra was excused from the hospital. Though they were still quite suspicious, they accepted her phone number and address, not realizing they were invalid. (From the future)

Dema exited the hospital gladly, bare feet carefully avoiding sticks and slivers of mulch from the gardens lining their sidewalk. She sighed, looking around warily for any sign of the black-haired teen or his companions. Generally ignoring the rest of Amity Park's occupants, it came as a great shock when she found herself walking down main street, with a box flying through the air, toward her. It was cardboard, surrounded with eerie green energy and traveling rather quickly for comfort.

The fact it was a flying box only registered dimly on her chart of 'what is that'. She was rather more concerned that it was close to smashing into her, and took action without thinking properly. Her fist lashed out with a speed that surprised her, slashing across the surface of the box, and ripping a hole in its side.

It fell to the ground, slumping to the side.

"NO! I am the Box ghost! Master of all things cardboard and square! How dare you defile one of these square containers!"

Demetra looked toward the man who said this, curious at why he was so freaked out about her smashing a box. His blue skin seemed to glow somewhat, pale eyes frustrated and concerned at the same time. The box ghost floated toward the box, muttering incoherent curses while examining the limp form. He turned toward Dema, who was standing silently in observation.

She flinched as he lifted his arms, shouting, "BEWARE!"

A brilliant flash of light, and the specter was sent tumbling across the pavement, smoking faintly. "For once, could you please STAY in the ghost zone?"

A black and white blur shot past her field of vision, its turbulence causing her to stumble forward a few steps. By the time she regained her balance, a cone of blue-tinted light had enveloped this… box ghost… and was sucking him into a cylindrical container crisscrossed with technology.. Her dark eyes flashed with recognition, and rage quickly flared up within her chest.

"You!" She snarled, clenching her fists in anger. The white-haired teen turned around to gaze at her warily, glowing green eyes flickering with curiosity. The white insignia on his chest affirmed her pervious conclusion, and the image of an older him leaning down toward her mother.

"You BASTARD!" She leapt toward him, rage activating her powers.

Her slender form darted forward faster than the eye could see, her long fingernails raking across his chest and face before he could react. He yelped in pain, shooting into the sky, a look of relief plain on his face when he found she could not follow him into the air.

She lashed her hand out, summoning the strange energy that she had sensed while shouting at her mom.

A thick whip of purple light was flung toward the ghost boy, his relief shifting to fright as it snapped around him, the chilling energy rope jerked him down from the sky, slamming him into the street below, a crackle of energy lancing twixt its strands.

His bright green eyes closed as he yelled in pain, back arching in a quick spasm.

The ropes dissipated, and he gazed upward, still laying on the street, struggling to recover from the shock. He gasped softly at the sight that met his eyes, not yet accustomed to having such hate directed at him.

Her dark blue eyes smoldered with utter loathing at his prone form, balled fist emitting lilac sparks every few moments. The faint breeze that stirred around her caused the ebony locks of hair fall in front of her face, time being counted in seconds.

She did nothing to him, combating the thought within. This boy trespassed, and nearly performed a crime punishable by utter obliteration… Yet now he was helpless….scared. And he didn't know why she was angry.

Dema jerked her head up when she heard the sound of something charging behind her, whirling around, only to be hit squarely by the blue beam of the fenton thermos. She shrieked in anger, her image distorted as the cone of light sucked her into the cylinder.

"Thanks"

"No problem… " Sam pushed some of her hair out of her violet eyes, glancing down at the thermos.

"Was I imagining things, or was that girl the one who had appeared out of thin air, and fell on top of you."

"The one that went into a coma for three hours, and expelled me like it was nothing?"

Sam nodded, ignoring his attitude.

"I think so… She had the same aura."

Phantom had transformed back into his human form, the brilliant circles of light washing over his white and black-clad form, replacing the hazmat outfit with a white and red tee shirt and baggy jeans. His unruly white hair shifted to black, still stubbornly falling over one of his electric blue eyes.