Chapter 2: Post Mortem
The nice thing about being rich was the opportunity to take a grand honeymoon to a nice place such as the Bahamas. While Tucker advocated this idea, Sam was less than enthusiastic.
"Tucker, I don't do beaches."
"Then what about Hawaii?"
"Same problem, Tuck!"
"Hmm … we could go hole up in a log cabin somewhere in Maine."
Sam laughed at this. "Cute, Tuck. How about just enjoying our home for a week or two?"
And this was what they decided to do.
Technically speaking, Tucker could have been a kept man and Sam could have never worked a day in her life and they still would have money left over in retirement to give to children and grandchildren, but neither were inclined in such a direction. So Tucker had taken two weeks off his cubicle job and Sam cancelled all speeches and meetings with PETA in the interest of just enjoying the relative mansion of a house Sam's parents had generously purchased for the newlyweds. Sam wanted to go to India for a month, but the trip was planned for late fall, some six months from now.
After the reception was over and the dancing was done, Tucker drove them to their fully furnished house. "I still can't believe we're going to live in a mansion," he commented.
"It's not really a mansion," Sam admonished. "Five bedrooms, two kitchens … it's big, but it's not a mansion."
"Compared to my apartment? Everything's a mansion," Tucker answered. He glanced over at Sam. "I love you."
"You love my money," Sam teased. Tucker made a face. "You know I'm joking. I love you too, Tuck."
Tucker's smile was very content, and they drove on in silence for a moment or two.
Sam's mind was still chewing on the matter of the vision she'd seen in the reception hall. Her feelings for Danny were never going to be properly settled, but to have them stirred up at a time like this … he had been gone, apparently dead dead for just over four years now. How could he have suddenly reappeared?
If Danny was still 'alive', then Sam had the obligation to let Tucker know. They were still his best friends … as far as she knew.
Then why didn't he appear before this? And why didn't he stay? Say hello? Say anything? Sam was surprised to find herself getting angry with the specter, and she shook it off. Maybe she really had just been seeing things, but maybe she hadn't.
"Tucker?"
"Yeah?"
Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I … I think I saw Danny."
Tucker stomped on the brakes a little too hard at the approaching red light, sending the car to a screeching halt. "Danny? Are you sure?" he asked, staring at Sam.
"No, I'm not sure! Which is why I said I think I saw Danny! Drive carefully," Sam pleaded.
"Sorry." Tucker eased up to the stop light. "Why didn't you say something while we were still there?"
"Because I only saw him for a moment. Remember when the room got chilly? I looked up and I thought I saw him against the far wall, but when I looked away for a moment, he disappeared." Sam sighed. "I might have just been seeing things. Wishful thinking."
"You don't really believe that," Tucker observed.
"No, I don't," Sam agreed. She made a face as the light turned green. "I just don't understand why Danny would … you know, disappear for so long, only to reappear at, of all things, our wedding. Is he embarrassed because he's a full ghost or something? That doesn't even make sense!"
Tucker was silent for a moment. "Maybe he didn't gain a spectral form right away," he suggested. "I mean, just because he was Danny Phantom doesn't mean he was automatically going to become a full ghost, right? He might have taken years to coalesce."
Sam might have had the better grades between the two of them, but Tuck was just as smart as Sam – he was only lazier. He'd had a brief crush on Danny's older sister, and during that time he'd done a ridiculous amount of research on ghosts to help Jazz with her college thesis. If Tuck thought that ghosts could take years to reappear, then it was probably true. "Then why didn't he say 'hi'? If he didn't want to show himself to everyone else, why didn't he just wait until after the reception was over? I'm sure he knows we want to talk to him."
Tucker shrugged slightly. "We really can't deduce anything from such a short visit," he pointed out carefully. "He might not be the same Danny we knew, you know … if he's a full ghost …"
Tucker didn't have to continue. Ghosts were ghosts because they had something that kept them tied to the mortal plane, or so most ghost hunters believed. If something had kept Danny from passing on, there was a good chance he was as obsessive over whatever-it-was as the Box Ghost was with boxes. "I guess," Sam allowed, unhappy about it.
Tucker made a soft noise. "Well, we have two weeks with no obligations. No one said we had to spend it lounging around our house," he pointed out. "Want to go scour the Ghost Zone? If Danny's really back, I'd like to see him as much as you."
Sam blushed slightly. "Yeah. I … I'd really like to give him a piece of my mind."
Tucker actually laughed. "If he's been avoiding us? Me too," he agreed.
&
Tucker and Sam had no idea how far off the mark they were, but they had no way of knowing, and Danny had no way of telling them. Currently kneeling on the floor of Mortem's lair, Sam and Tucker were also the furthest thing from his mind.
"You know what happened," he said slowly to Mortem.
"Mm, yes, failed assignment. It happens to the best of us," Mortem observed. His form was completely hidden by the cloak he wore, but he brought up long, skeletal fingers, clicking them against each other. "However, I run a tight ship, and I'm obligated to do something that will remind you why failing is not an option. What do you recommend, Daniel?"
"I don't need a reminder," Danny answered through clenched teeth. "It was Freakshow! The last guy on earth I'd want around for eternity!" The man had been deathly serious about killing Danny's friends and family off nine years ago when he'd controlled the Reality Gauntlet, and Danny had never forgiven him. How could he? Ghosts were one thing; they were obsessive, not fully 'human', so to speak, if they had ever been human, but Freakshow was a fully human and very much alive psychopath.
It could only get worse with the stripping of his humanity.
Mortem regarded him coolly. "Indeed. Well, I suspect he'll be after you for the remainder of your afterlife."
"You know what your problem is? You lack empathy," Danny said bitterly.
"Why should Death feel?" Mortem asked. "To make my job unbearably painful? You yourself may crack under the strain in the next century, although I certainly hope not. My offer still stands, Daniel."
"Thanks, but no thanks." Danny glared at his employer.
Mortem wasn't perturbed. "Let me know if your tune changes. In the meantime …" Mortem tapped his finger against his unseen chin under his hood. "You're really not going to be useful with Mr. Showenhower floating around. So." He leveled his finger at Danny. "Your next order of business: clean up your own mess." There was a flash of a skull's smile. "Send Freakshow on, however you may. Oh, and you may have guessed I've spoken to Clockwork recently."
Danny groaned. "Yes?" Since becoming a Reaper, Danny had discovered there were spirits that had never been human: Clockwork and Mortem were 'ghosts', but only in the sense that they were spectral. Like the Fright Knight, they were spirits that represented abstract ideas: Time, Death, and Halloween. However, unlike the Fright Knight, Time and Death were not human constructs. They were much more powerful than the Halloween ghost.
They were also old chums.
"Let's just say this: I'm willing to overlook your slip-up today at Samantha Manson's wedding."
Darn it! "I was kind of hoping you didn't know about that."
"Daniel, as long as I've known Clockwork, you can safely say that I, too, know everything." Mortem chuckled, a chilling sound. "I'll let you off the usual work for fourteen days. If Fredrich isn't cleaned up by then, I suppose you'll have to make do, and I'll just keep you on board for another fifty years. Offers like yours just don't come as often as I'd like."
Great. I'm still his favorite, Danny thought. "Is that it?"
"That's it." Mortem waved a hand, and a portal opened under Danny's knees again. Danny yelped and was swallowed up.
"I'd recommend the stairs, but the elevator is so much faster!" Mortem called after him before the portal back to the human world closed up. He chuckled to himself, his face illuminated briefly in the green glow of the portal.
He was nothing but a skeleton.
"Let's hope Clockwork's faith in you isn't unfounded," he said, fading into the shadows.
&
Lydia had never been one for words.
When she had discovered that her master Freakshow was a ghost, she was secretly delighted. She did not know how many years she had spent trapped by the Guys in White – nor did she care. Time was beyond her consideration.
Time was measured by how long she could spend with Freakshow.
Although Freakshow had never admitted it, she had known for a long time that he wished to be a ghost. She saw it in his eyes – rampant jealousy and reluctant admiration. The discovery he could control ghosts with an ancient staff had … changed something, however. Those times were hazy in Lydia's mind. And when they had emerged on the other end, the staff destroyed, there was something new. Something a little crazy.
Lydia had not run like the others. She was loyal if nothing else. Freakshow was her master, and she would stand by him through thick and thin.
And now, he was a ghost.
Her master was confused, and he was loud about it. "How can I possibly be a ghost? That's preposterous. No Showenhower has ever become a ghost before!"
Lydia pulled Freakshow along by the arm, floating him down into a grove of trees some six hundred miles from the Guys in White complex. She shook her head at Freakshow, pressing a finger to her lips.
Freakshow's eyes were even more alight with something dangerous now. Lydia knew the effect time could have on humans, and perhaps she should have been more concerned; she did not know what had happened to her master while in the confines of his white prison. However, he quieted at her gesture. "Yes, Lydia, my only loyal partner?"
Accept this. Please accept this. Lydia clutched Freakshow by the hands. "We are … the same," she said.
Freakshow was silent, scowling.
"Accept it," Lydia urged. "It is strength."
She didn't like speaking. Lydia preferred that her actions speak for her. But her master was a man of many words. She only hoped he would hear as well as he spoke.
Freakshow studied her features for a long moment. Then he chuckled. Then he laughed. He threw his head back and laughed until he would have cried, if he had only had tears to cry. "Strength? Strength? It's POWER, Lydia, pure and simple! Power!" His eyes gleamed. "And I know just what to do with it …"
He tried to fly and faltered, zooming past Lydia's head and half-burying himself in a tree as he went tangible halfway through it. "Ow!"
Lydia closed her eyes. "Practice first," she said gently, pulling her master from the tree.
&
Danny dropped back onto the human plane a mile above the ground. Immediately the symbolic manacles around his wrists became lighter, allowing him flight once again. He floated there, disoriented, for a long moment.
Then he let out a scream of frustration.
"I can't believe he offered that again!"
Mortem's 'offer' was to remove Danny's humanistic emotions. He had presented the offer for the first time upon Danny's entrance into his contract – to serve Death as a Reaper for twice the length of Sam's natural life, a fair trade since Danny was supposedly 'half-dead' upon his agreement. As Mortem presented it, the deal was optimal to Danny's mental health, since he would be unable to feel sympathy for a mother ripped from her child at his or her birth, a beloved sister dying of leukemia, or any other tragic soul passing from the world with regrets.
Danny had refused.
As he saw it, the sentence was not eternal, and he certainly didn't want to lose his love for his family or friends just to survive 188 years. He could do this. He'd managed to stick it out for four years so far, although not without more than his fair share of heartbreaking jobs.
He had yet to meet another Reaper who had refused the offer, however. It made his position very, very lonely.
After taking several deep, frustrated breaths – completely unnecessary, but nonetheless calming – Danny settled to dealing with the current problem.
He now had two weeks to find Freakshow, figure out what kept him tied to the mortal plane, and resolve it so that Freakshow could pass on.
Not everyone who Reapers failed to attend to became ghosts, but most of them did. Nearly every dying human had something they regretted or refused to let go of – whether it was a loved one, a grudge, a lifelong interest, or even a vacationing spot they had always dreamed of visiting but never had. If a Reaper was present at their death, their job was to literally sever the soul's connection to the human world, cutting through the ties to the body, the love and the grudges and the dreams, leaving the mere essence of the human. From there they passed on to things beyond Danny's understanding.
After death, of course, it only made sense that Death no longer had power over the soul. Unfortunately for Danny, this applied to Freakshow. He couldn't simply open a portal to whatever lay beyond Death and chuck his soul into it.
He had to do this the hard way.
Danny floated downwards, searching for landmarks he recognized. Once he'd gotten his bearings, he realized he was only a few miles from – of course – Amity Park. It might have been a clue as to where Freakshow was, but it probably wasn't. Mortem wasn't likely to be overly inclined to help Danny with this particular assignment; ideally Danny would fail to complete his business in the allotted time, since it would add fifty years to his sentence. As Mortem had observed, offers to become Reapers didn't come often, and he liked hanging onto his subjects as long as possible.
Danny wished violently that he actually had control over where his scythe sent him. But it was merely a tool of the trade; if he cut a hole open in reality now, it could drop him wherever Mortem wanted, and right now, that would probably be somewhere over China or someplace equally far away from wherever Freakshow was. It only did what he wanted when he was on official business, and this … wasn't exactly it. At least dealing with ghosts wasn't anywhere in his contract.
He had the sudden urge to look in on Sam and Tuck, but then he realized he really didn't have the time. Besides, by this time they'd be well on their way to wherever they were honeymooning. With a sigh of regret, Danny released a burst of ghostly power and shot off at top speed towards the south.
It was time to visit the Guys in White. Maybe they would have a clue where Freakshow's ghost would go.
Tbc
With especial thanks to everyone who reviewed last time! Bluemoonalto, thank you so much for your kind comments and expressed curiosity. I hope this chapter kept you intrigued.
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