So I guess I lied about not posting today. I still might not be able to post anything tomorrow, though.
Related: Sometimes when I post a new chapter, the story doesn't move up the recent updates list. That happened yesterday, so you might have missed seeing chapter 18. Just so you know.
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Chapter 19: The Shadow
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It was a weird sensation.
A burning hand in his chest, wrapping around his core, pulling.
There was the sensation of falling.
(Why was it so hard to breathe?)
There was an epiphany. A revelation. He knew now, why he'd been so tired. His core was trying to adjust. Trying to spread itself too thin. Trying to make things easier for the others. Trying trying trying. It had been damaged. He, Danny, had been damaged. That first attack, dying again, the portal. He wasn't ready.
It was a weird sensation.
Like he wasn't quite in his body. Like he was watching from the outside. Like he was aware of everything and nothing at the same time.
It had happened three (four) times before.
Once, with Poindexter. Those first moments, looking through the mirror, trapped, he had been so scared. His fear had only grown the longer he had stayed there, tethered to a place that wasn't him, wasn't his. He was always scared.
Then the next time, it hadn't been anyone's fault. An accident. An error. Unintentional. He had run headfirst into the Ghost Catcher, splitting himself, except not. He had still been both of himself. Not separate. Together. But apart. The same, but different. It still hurt his head to think about.
The third time, he had done it on purpose. He had promised Sam and Tucker a fun weekend, but he couldn't just ignore the ghosts attacking Amity. His nature pulled him in two different directions, and the Ghost Catcher was the only solution. It'd had a bizarre effect on his personality. Both halves were trying too hard at their assigned tasks, and there was a buzzing, underlying, elastic tie linking the two of them and it hurt.
(The fourth time was buried under a hundred layers of denial, guilt, and self-hatred. A moment in time, a hand clawed hand brushing incidentally against his core as it deposited an artifact of time itself, leaving behind a decade of memories.
[Claws through his chest- he couldn't breathe- this wasn't the way it was supposed to be. What was Vlad doing, he had promised to fix things, but it hurt more and more and more. All he was was pain, anger, FEAR and he was staring down at his human self and it still hurt. He couldn't do this, what was Vlad doing? This wasn't what they had agreed on. It wasn't supposed to be this way. It hurt and he had to protect but it hurt and they were already gone and he was out of control and he couldn't.]
And Danny buried the flash again. No. It didn't excuse anything.)
It was a little like making a duplicate, too, if he though about it, but it was forced. Violent. A violation. Entirely against his will.
It hurt. But it was a different hurt than dying. This was more like a strain, an ache in his bones.
He could feel the way out. The redirect. No. He wasn't doing that. He wasn't walking into a trap. He wasn't going to imprison himself. He pushed and fought and struggled and searched. There were ways and there were ways. He had a right to protect himself.
His mind skittered, trying too pull back the thought. It was too much like- But it was too late. There was too much going on.
Sam caught him before he hit the ground. Good Sam. Thank you Sam. Jazz and Tucker were going after something on the ground. Good. They were too good. They were always helping him and he was so useless. Jack was holding both of them back, one in each hand. A wave of fierce possessiveness came over him. All ghosts had it, at least a little bit. Danny kept his tamped down, rarely manifested, and then only as over-protectiveness, afraid that he'd hurt someone, afraid that he'd do something unforgivable, take a step too far from humanity. But Sam, Tucker, and Jazz were his. His, and no one else had the right- No one else could touch-
But his parents were his, too, and he was supposed protect them. Why were they doing this? What did he do wrong?
He gasped, eyes rolling back as the hand around his core constricted. Sam was lowering him to the ground. It was too hot! He wanted it to be cold. Cold was good. Cold was safe. He wanted it to be safe, everyone safe and cold and not changing in confusing ways, his parents were supposed to be his parents, not the enemy. They were supposed to help him, why?
Why was he so weak? Why wasn't he doing something? Why did he always wait for disasters to happen? Why was he so passive? He should be more active, proactive, should have done something, something more.
His core was abruptly released, and it curled in on itself, trembling. Danny could breathe again. He could feel everything. Every blade of glass. The weave of his clothes. Sam's hands cradling him. He could feel his lair, really feel it, and he could feel the shadow trapped by the makeshift device lying on the ground just a few meters away.
The shadow was an extension of the lair, just as the lair was an extension of Danny. But it was an unnatural, pinched-off extension, a reflection of his thoughts of the moment. Still, his lair drank them in.
Then Danny's core shivered again, and even the illusion of control was lost.
The wisps were screaming overhead. Furious, but unsure of what to do, of what they could do. Danny should have spent longer talking to them, explaining who was who and what was what, but even Danny wasn't sure of that anymore.
Then his mother was at his side, and he didn't know if he should cling to her or flinch away. Not that he had a choice. His body wasn't listening to him. She pulled him away from Sam, and he moaned in protest.
"It's okay, Danny, it's okay. I'm here now, Danny, Mommy's here." He wanted to believe her. He really did. "Phantom's gone, now. He's gone, Danny," she said, rocking him. This was blatantly untrue. Danny's core was weak, hiding, he probably wouldn't be able to use even the least of his powers, but it was still there. He felt her shift. "Valerie, Sam... Ricky, Mikey, are you alright? What did Phantom do?"
There was a tangle of sound as everyone tried to talk over one another. Sam was trying to soften everything, turn away the knife. She wasn't doing a very good job, this time. They hadn't time to think, to prepare.
Then Valerie raised her voice. "They were working with Phantom!"
"What?" asked Maddie, voice soft, dangerous.
"Danny and Sam- But we only have Sam and Phantom's word of that."
"You- Sam, how could you? You know what ghosts are like."
"Mrs Fenton-"
"No," said Maddie. Danny could feel himself being lifted. "I can't believe this. I know that you were always interested in darkness but this is too much. And you- And Tucker and Jazz, too," Maddie said, with an air of revelation.
"Mrs Fenton, I can explain-"
"No. No," said Maddie, her voice going hard, angry. "Don't you dare try to twist this, Sam. This is- You helped Phantom make my child a slave when you were supposed to be his friend."
"I didn't- You don't-"
"Don't lie to me, Samantha!" shouted Maddie. "Helping that thing- It's the reason we're here!" Then Maddie's tone took on a threatening edge. "When we get back-"
That was all it took to tip the scales. His parents went from friends to enemies in that moment.
(But he still loved them, still needed them to be safe.)
He forced his eyes open and flailed. It was really the only motion available to him at the moment. But he found his mother's shoulder, and pushed off of it. Maddie was taken by surprise, and he tumbled out of her arms. He managed to find his feet- a miracle!- and stumbled in the general direction of Sam. She caught his shoulder, steadying him.
Maddie reached out to him.
"Don't touch me!"
"Danny?"
"I said don't touch me! Leave me alone!" Danny was breathing heavily, hyperaware of the air in his lungs, of the ectoplasm it was laced with. His eyes flicked to the device on the ground, on the shadow huddled inside it.
"Mr Fenton- Daniel..."
Danny looked up at Mr Lancer, but, catching movement out of the corner of his eye, snapped back to face his mother. "Why-" he said. He wasn't entirely rational at the moment and he knew it. He shouldn't be talking, but he couldn't help it. "Why is it that everything you do winds up with me getting hurt?"
Maddie stepped closer, platitudes on her lips, but she was, shockingly, stopped by Mr Lancer. "Mrs Fenton," he said. "Perhaps you ought to... Stay back. And Jack. Let Jasmine and Mr Foley go. Please. I don't know what you think they were doing, but they clearly aren't doing it now." He turned to Danny, smiling gently. He bent, so that his eyes were level with Danny's. "Daniel... Danny," he said softly, "could you- What do you mean by that?"
"I- I- I don't..." His breath hitched, his eyes still fixed on Maddie.. "They... It isn't- They don't mean to... It's just- The inventions, they don't always work right. The boomerang. The blasters. The shrink ray. The security system. Trackers. All the goo, and the chemicals. The por-" He stopped dead, then took a deep breath. "It- It's nothing."
Lancer looked over his shoulder. "Mrs Fenton, maybe you could go... Make sure Phantom doesn't get out, something." He looked back at the device on the ground, frowning when he saw Jack still holding on to Tucker and Jazz."
Maddie glanced at Lancer, took a step back, and scowled. "I would never-"
A sound of cracking ice cut through the air, dangerous, sharp-edged, and brittle. All eyes snapped to the device, to the shadow. Even the wisps stopped shrieking and buzzing. It was upright, now, head thrown back. Still indistinct, but humanoid. He was laughing.
"You would never?" hissed the shadow. It's voice was overlaid with static, the edges of it's words curled around with desperate screams. "Tell us, Madeline Camilla Fenton, what is it that you would never do?"
"Phantom," said Maddie.
Broken ice laughter. "Phantom? I'm afraid you're mistaken. But, come. We were talking about you. What you would do. What was it? Hurt a child? Hurt your child?"
"We're the ones asking the questions here," said Maddie.
"Oh? So you don't want to tell them how you continue making weapons even when they turn on your children? How you ignore their injuries? The bruises, the blood... Didn't you notice?"
"What do you know, you-" Maddie visibly forced herself to calm down. "You are going to take us home. Now."
"Why?" asked the shadow, sounding genuinely curious. It's voice was more normal now.
"Because if you don't we'll leave you in there. Permanently."
"Hmm." The shadow opened a pair of vividly green eyes. "No. Even if I could, I wouldn't."
Maddie's lips twitched, and she turned slightly, to face Sam and Danny. "This is what Phantom is really like. Are you happy you worked with it now?"
"Aren't you going to-?" asked Mr Lancer.
"It'll change it's mind, or whatever passes for it's mind, eventually," said Maddie, dismissively. "Danny, I need to check you for possession aftereffects. I don't want you going into shock."
"Unwise," said the shadow. "Almost as unwise as thinking you can hold me."
"And what do you think you know about it, huh?!" exclaimed Jack.
"Everything. I know how you hurt him. How you always hurt him."
"Mrs Fenton-"
"He's lying."
"How many weapons have you fired in his direction, as a joke? How many have you fired to wound? Can you even tell when he's hiding his pain? When he's afraid of you?"
"Mr Phantom-"
"I am not Phantom. Not truly. Not in the way that humans would understand it, Mr Lancer."
"Just ignore it, Mr Lancer."
Mr Lancer frowned. "I don't think I will. Mrs Fenton, over the past three years I've seen-" He glanced back at Danny. "I've seen a lot of things. Troubling things, and ghosts are the least of it. This is the first reasonable explanation I've heard, no matter that it's from a ghost."
"It isn't what you're thinking. They're just so ignorant. They don't even know what they've done. He still loves them. We still love them." The eyes blinked, focusing first on Jack, then on Maddie. "Why do you hurt him? Hurt us? It doesn't matter now, though. Here you'll be safe. Be kept safe. You won't be hurt, won't be allowed to hurt anyone, not anymore."
It was at that point that Tucker, who had managed to surreptitiously slip his Lipstick Laser from his pocket and aim it at the device, fired. Sparks flew out as the device caught on fire and the shadow vaporized.
An unnatural pressure came off Danny's soul, and the lair began to recover from it's shock. Danny could feel it, peripherally. Kicking into gear. It thrilled him, deep down, even as it horrified him. Finally, finally, finally.
"Tucker! Why-?"
"Because what you were doing is wrong!"
Danny leaned against Sam, staring up into the sky. Clouds were gathering. It was going to start snowing soon.
