Disclaimer: I don't own DP.

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Overall Miniseries Summary for Karma: Dan challenges Pariah Dark for the position of Ghost King and loses badly. As a result, Pariah Dark rips out Dan's power core, cuts out his tongue, and tortures him to make him an example for other enemies. He then throws a broken Dan to the resistance before claiming the human world as part of his empire. Valerie struggles with what to do regarding their strange prisoner and how to stop Pariah Dark before he destroys them all. Hurt!Dan.

Summary for Karma Part 7: Valerie's prisoner is suffering from acute traumatic stress. Valerie questions if this is the beginning of their deal's end. Hurt!Dan.


Deliverance

Shot: Karma Part 7


Now that Valerie knew the extent of abuse he had suffered under Pariah Dark's torment, Phantom's emotions steeled in strange ways. His personality grew more withdrawn and volatile. Even though the bruises across his face were fading into a lighter green, and the cuts across his body were scabbing over, something had changed for the worse.

There was a skittish unpredictability about him—a wildness in his eyes that maybe he'd lash out again, even as her and Kwan cleaned up the shrapnel in his room, re-stitched his cut hand, and found a new heating blanket to keep him warm from the shivers of his growing power core.

Later that day, he pushed a piece of paper at Valerie. A pencil he'd stolen from Kwan's clipboard was clenched tightly in his hand.

Tell no one.

His handwriting, with his body on the mend, had smoothed out into something like poetry. The lines were bold but sweeping in a way that suggested he'd received an education in classical penmanship. Each stroke was deliberate, teeming with yet another history she did not understand about him.

Valerie read over the simple command, then looked up. He appeared apprehensive and afraid on that bed. "Normally, we have to report this kind of stuff," she said slowly. "But since you're not a citizen of Amity Park, and you're…you, I think we can keep it between us. And Kwan. He knows."

Dan's jaw clenched in a fearful way, but then he slowly nodded. He held the pencil in his hand more tightly until his knuckles bled white.

She held out her hand. "Now give me that pencil."

When he did not immediately do so, she grabbed the pencil from him because she did not want him to stab anything—mostly himself. He had an odd look in his eye that maybe he'd try.


After Valerie left, Dan wrapped the blanket around him, scooting back against the pillows, staring off in a daze at the wall. It was a familiar sort of fog—an attempt to separate himself from the barrage of memories that now hounded him.

His face twitched and his whole body flinched, feeling the ghost touch of hands wrenching his head back by his hair, the laughter in his ears as they pinned him down easily.

His breath hitched. "Mgh," he complained to himself, holding his head. He half-thought to bash his head against a wall until oblivion came. He squeezed his eyes shut hard.

The more he attempted to fight it, the more his mind looped over and over staring down blearily at the dirty stone floor beneath him, hanging naked in chains after the faceless court of Pariah Dark had left him to fade out. He'd been shaking, unable to even recognize his own shuddering breaths as sweat and blood rolled from his body, his mouth still on fire from his cut-out tongue.

They'd broken his mind of thoughts, his heart of its pride, his body of its strength. And in that moment, as he stared at that dirty floor, all he'd been able to think was fade out fade out fade out

In real time, Dan's red eyes were wide as they stared at the wall, his fingers grasping for the edge of his mattress. Fade out fade out fade out

His long, bruised fingers wrapped around a large, metal shard buried into the mattress padding. Valerie and Kwan had overlooked it because a blanket had been in the way. In his daze, he locked on tight to the duller edge. Then he held the sharp metal to his own throat, closing his eyes and inhaling a shuddering breath. He could end it. Make everything stop and bleed out with a quick, calculated slit. No one would miss him. No one beyond Valerie and Kwan would know what he had become.

But then…Valerie. He recalled her face, the concerned narrowing of her eyes. His enemy. His ally.

He blinked as he suddenly remembered the soothing warmth of her body as he leaned against her, the rhythmic motion of her fingers stroking the back of his neck. The unique rasp of her voice, which had softened against him.

It struck Dan that if he ended himself, Valerie would die. She'd held off interrogating him further for information out of some respect for his sanity. But if she sought battle against Pariah Dark with what she knew now, she would be defeated and likely tortured on behalf of instigating an uprising. Such torture, he knew intimately, would break her until the dignity of her image was as slandered as his own.

The thought was alien that despite the abuse he now remembered, he still had objective value. A measurable worth. He swallowed hard, the shard's edge brushing against his Adam's apple. His hand began to shake. He caught sight of a tattered, hand-drawn picture that Valerie had rehung on the wall.

It was the first picture drawn by the girl who had betrayed him to Dash for a beating—Nina. Some of the intricate details had been smudged. A piece of it was taped on after having been a victim of his tantrum. The image oddly convicted him, as if to say, You owe Valerie to keep her alive.

For a second, he held his position. Then he lowered the shard, squeezing his eyes shut in defeat.

If he did not slit his throat now, his growing power core would threaten the ease of his fading out. He would be faster to heal such damaging wounds and would likely require a significantly more painful, drawn out process to finish the job.

But then if Valerie suffered at the hands of Pariah Dark, after all she had done to protect him, he would surely have failed in every way to repay her kindness.

He decided he'd wait to end himself. Until after he told her the last shreds he knew of Pariah Dark and his kingdom. And maybe, by some miracle, he'd still be weak enough to fade out.


"This isn't good, Kwan," Valerie moaned, running her hands through her hair as she paced. "He's shutting off."

"You're telling me," the doctor muttered at his desk. "He ruined that infirmary room."

"I'm serious. I thought we were making progress, but now he's just repressing everything and being all flinchy and—"

Kwan sighed. "—It's called shock."

She huffed. "Well, how do I make it stop? I liked it a lot better when I could tell what he was thinking." Tears of frustration began to burn at her eyes. Dammit, she'd ruined it. It was all her fault. "Now, I don't even know if I can trust him with a pencil."

He blinked. "Why not?"

"I walked in earlier today, and there he is, pulling out the stitches in his hand to make himself bleed." Something in her voice strained with tears. "His face is empty. I just…what the hell. I can't deal with this. Not right now. I need him to cooperate."

Kwan looked a little sick. "You mean, he pulled out my perfect work? Those stitches were even."

"He only managed to pull out one before I got there. But we gotta do something. Something drastic."


The next day, Dan received his first visitor beyond Valerie or Kwan.

Valerie stood in the doorway, her hands settled on the shoulders of a small girl who was carrying a piece of paper. "Phantom," she greeted, gently pushing the little girl forward. "You remember Nina. Who draws you pictures."

Dan stared at the girl, blinking. She was small and looked a little underfed, her brown eyes big and wide, her hair a wild fuzz around her head. Something about her seemed oddly familiar. Like a shadow he'd seen before.

The girl's breath hitched as she stared at him in awe, taking in the fading bruises upon his body, his wasted muscles, and the way his hair no longer flickered but hung down his shoulders.

"Nina," Valerie stressed, "wanted to apologize in person for telling Dash where you were. And she had a new picture she wanted to give you."

Nina looked at Phantom, then quickly down at her feet. The white piece of paper in her hand flickered in the light. "You killed my parents," she mumbled. "That's why I did it. You killed my parents."

Phantom inhaled softly, his face twisting strangely. He could not remember killing anyone specifically. Only nameless faces.

The two looked at each other uncertainly, knowing that they were each responsible for great pain in the other's life.

Valerie gently nudged the girl. "Wasn't there something you wanted to say?"

Nina looked afraid and hesitant as her face twitched. Then she seemed to gather the courage to look up at Dan Phantom once more. "People said it would make me feel better, but it was wrong," she whispered. "What Dash did to you." Tears bubbled in her eyes again, and Dan realized with a start that it was tears for him. This girl had been traumatized by the results of her own actions. From what Valerie said, this girl had watched it all.

Another strange emotion began to grip him. It made it harder to breathe, because Nina's words were nearly the same as Valerie's. He inhaled sharply and turned his face away. He'd killed this girl's parents, and she was sorry for him?

"You didn't even fight back," Nina accused shakily. "You're supposed to be a real monster! But you only tried to get away." She moved forward, steps a bit uncertain. She held out her piece of paper to him and set it on his lap.

With a wince and a noise of pain, he managed to sit up a bit more fully. Valerie eyed him with wariness, prepared to move if Dan did not respond well to Nina. Her fingers twitched on her blaster at her hip, noting that the ghost seemed to favor his right side.

Dan stared at the picture, which was of violet flowers. The lines were intricate and full of deep purples. And then he turned to the little girl, staring at her in curiosity. In his mind, he felt that he did not deserve this girl's tears.

And Nina began to cry harder, realizing that the monster who had killed her parents wasn't even the person she'd helped punished. "I'm sorry," she begged, stepping away from him, as if burned by the sight of him. "I'm sorry."

The crippled ghost watched, face unreadable, as the girl hid behind Valerie.

The Red Huntress looked uncomfortable as she patted the Nina's head. Something in her gaze was questioning now—as if she'd just realized something about Dan. "I'll take it from here, okay?"

The little girl's breath hitched as she nodded. "'Kay." Then she slipped away from even Valerie, backing out the door, scrubbing at her eyes as she cried. The door clicked shut behind her.

Dan sat in silence tensely, staring down at the image on his lap. He felt distant from himself as he stared at the flowers, which were harmless and colorful and each petal looking as if it'd taken hours to draw.

"Do you like that picture?" Valerie sat down beside his bed, looking worn.

He pressed his lips together. He'd never quite cared for flowers and found them to be pointless reminders of the fragility of life. And yet these ones were a gift, and he could not deny the skill of the girl. He touched his fingers to one of the petals, which seemed so lifelike. He nodded slowly.

"I won't tell you how many hours she spent on it. I think she'd appreciate a note from you saying you like her work."

His red eyes flicked up to hers briefly. He held her gaze with an uncomfortable sort of vulnerability. Although he knew the little girl was sympathetic to his cause, he found himself unable to consider the thought of conversing with her. He didn't deserve her tears, much less her attention.

"You think the whole world's against you," she said. "That healing up doesn't matter anymore. But there's people outside of just me who believe you matter. That you're not a monster." She held out her hand expectantly. "Now give me whatever I know you're hiding behind your pillow."

At that, the ghost tensed. His eyes sharpened upon her.

"You're favoring your right side, but I know you're not injured there. You're turning only at a certain angle, like you want to hide something." She pointed her finger, then began to reach behind him.

Before Dan could stop her, red eyes widening a fraction, she grabbed onto a metal shard. Her own eyes widened as she pulled it from the bed with great suspicion. "What the...? The hell you got this hiding for? You gonna try hurting someone with it? Yourself?"

Suddenly, everything seemed to suffocate him—even Valerie. It was the last piece of power he had over his own afterlife. Pain and anger overwhelmed him. He snapped out at her, baring his fangs and smacking the metal shard out of her hand.

She retaliated and twisted around, grabbing onto his wrist and standing up. Her eyes hardened against him. "Don't you cop an attitude with me," she warned.

His face twisted in barely withheld irritation, as if he were saying, I am not a child. He jerked his wrist away from her death grip and looked away. Then a spark of shame tore through him, and he huffed.

"Dammit, Phantom, I am not in the mood," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Look at me right now, and tell me yes or no: Were you trying to hurt yourself?"

Something in him shifted with a challenge. What are you going to about it? every line in his body seemed to say.

"Look at me," she growled, reaching out to grab his chin.

The instant her fingers touched his jaw, he snapped and bit down on her hand with his sharp fangs.

Valerie's mouth dropped open in a gasp of pain, and she instinctively tried to recoil her hand, but he'd bitten down hard, eyes lit in fury.

She grabbed onto his elfin ear with her free hand and pinched as hard as she could. A muffled yelp escaped him, and his jaw unlocked from her hand. Red blood pooled from puncture wounds on her dark skin. His head leaned in pain at the burst of nerves from his agonized ear.

Valerie pulled her hand back and cradled it close in disbelief. "You ungrateful bastard," she hissed at him, letting go of his ear. "What the hell is this?"

He held his ear in pain, and his face twisted in a such a sudden form of hate that his hair began to flicker on the ends.

Valerie grabbed onto her blaster and leveled it at his face, steadying the trigger with her bleeding hand. "I'll shoot," she warned. "And it'll hurt. You want this? Is this what you want?"

The instant Dan felt the electric pressure of the blaster whining up, sense slammed back into him. He blinked then recoiled in horror. No, he thought suddenly, delirium fading he rubbed his injured ear. What am I doing? His fingers shook in terror of himself. That he was not in control. He'd just attacked Valerie, which he'd previously agreed he would never do again.

What am I doing?

Silence strained between them as he refused to look up at the damage he had done.

Blood from Valerie's injured hand ran down her skin onto the barrel of her weapon. She gave no sign of her pain beyond her clenched jaw. And then she said, voice low and hard, "You trying to manipulate me into hurting you?"

He bared his teeth at her without much enthusiasm, feeling rebuked and hypersensitive. His thoughts were wild with many fears. There was something in him, a raw nerve, that had been exposed. He struggled to separate his desire to fade out from the reality that he could not do so yet.

"Don't you ever do that again," she hissed at him. "That's an order." She jammed her weapon back into its holster and looked down at her injured hand. The pain was pulsing deep, the blood now unsightly. She tried to cover her wound. Her face twisted. "Do you understand me?"

Dan refused to meet her eyes, rubbing his aching, elfin ear.

He did not move to nod or further disagree. The silence between them grew even more tense.

"Dammit, I mean it. Acknowledge the order."

With a flinch of shame, the ghost nodded.

"Hnn." And then Valerie stomped out, tight-lipped and eyes narrowed. She took the metal shard she'd found with her, heart dropping in a mix of anger and pain.


Over the next day, Valerie remained distant with him, vigilant in anticipation of another lash-out. He watched her with increasing scrutiny as well, unable to focus on her hand that had been wrapped with white gauze.

Dan figured she might take away Nina's picture of flowers as punishment, but she did no such thing. Instead, she sat down determinedly by his bed.

"We have a deal," she said. "Healing in exchange for information." She thrust a dull marker at him and a clipboard with paper. "If you're well enough to bite me, you're well enough to handle an interrogation."

He grabbed onto the other end of the marker. "Hmm," he grunted at her with some kind of petulance. It bothered him she no longer trusted him even with pencils. As if he could do much damage with a marker. But then he popped the cap and put it to paper expectantly.

At least an interrogation would be a distraction from the memories of pain and laughter that haunted him. From the embarrassment he felt at the thought that Valerie knew, and that he'd broken down on her and then bit her in his insanity.

"First question. Why did you freak out on me yesterday?" she demanded. "It wasn't like with Kwan. You were aware you were doing it this time."

His red eye twitched. His hand paused over the paper.

"I'm waiting," Valerie said dryly.

That inspired some reaction. Ask me about Pariah Dark, he wrote, his handwriting heavily slanted left in some kind of anger.

"No, not yet. I'm not moving on until we clear this up. You cried on me, and I let you. So what happened after that? I thought—" Her voice strained for a second, and then she cut herself off. With a hard swallow, she said, "I thought we had…an understanding."

His breath began to shudder in strange ways, and he looked to the side, focusing on a corner in the room. Their "understanding," as Valerie called it, had been so bent that he could not understand its parameters. She was allowing him to disobey her. She had taken nothing from him as a result of his attack. And yet the thought that Valerie knew—that Valerie knew—scorched him so hot as to burn his face green with a flush of shame.

His fingers began to shake. He circled his previous words. Ask me about Pariah Dark.

"No," she said again. "I wanna know what's going on in that head of yours. I don't know what you need. I'm not…good with stuff like this."

His hand hesitated over the paper, and for a second, looked as though he might succumb to another odd tantrum. He gripped the marker so tight that the veins in his arms stood out. Then his vision began to blur.

He circled his words one more time. Ask me about Pariah Dark. But as he did so, his movements were shaky, and his vision blurred more. There was something desperate about his wish to redirect the conversation. He did not know what he needed.

The hands on his hips dug in. "You like that?" came an unfamiliar, male voice—a murmur of haughty triumph.

Suddenly, Dan clapped his hands over his ears, squeezing his eyes shut. The marker fell off the side of the bed and clattered to the floor, along with the clipboard. His breath came in short inhales as he drew his legs up. It was happening again. It was happening again.

Unable to control his thoughts, every muscle in his body tensed in preparation for pain.

Valerie stood up, eyes wide. A frantic sort of fear came over her as she saw Dan's fingertips begin to glow green with energy, a pattern of ice storming down his skin. "Oh shit," she breathed, unsure of whether to attempt shaking him out of it or running for help. This was the wild side in Phantom—the one that could inspire him to destroy once more. "Phantom, come on. Don't do this again. I'm serious!"

A barrier suddenly flickered around him, pushing Valerie back as it solidified onto the human plane. She grimaced as she planted her hands against the warping energy, her boots sliding against the tiles beneath her as the barrier expanded. "Stop it!" she begged him, now terribly afraid that he was either hurting himself or exposing his signature to the power of Pariah Dark. "You drop this barrier right now!"

His eyes snapped open suddenly, glowing with energy. From beneath the barrier, his skin took on a sickly green color. It shined with the increasing freeze of ice patterning up his neck and jaw and down his fingers. His power core, hardly a centralized piece of light in his chest, began to pulse with the first tendrils of an active ecto-signature.

Valerie's voice caught in her throat. "Please," she cried out. Tears of frustration and fear burned her eyes. Pariah Dark was going to notice this kind of energy pulse. Surely, he was going to. "I need you to stop this, please. Or we're all gonna die. You hear me?"

On some level, Dan acknowledged that the voice and the feminine, red shadow banging against his barrier was not consistent with the environment of his memories. Valerie, he thought distantly. Although he felt some level of anger against her, he knew he needed to protect her too from the rage and insanity of Pariah Dark's court. And so he reached out to her, his ice-covered fingertips straining to grab onto her and accept her into the sanctity of his barrier. But he realized he could not reach her from such a distance. He began to swing one emaciated leg over the edge of the bed, then the other, the blankets falling away from him.

Valerie, he thought again desperately, unable to fully separate fact from fiction. He believed she was in the castle too, about to be overtaken by Pariah's court. Valerie.

His thin fingers clamped down hard on the bed railing as he suddenly lifted himself off and onto the floor, his bare feet planting against the tiles. His entire body lit with raw nerves and wasted muscles, but he moved forward with an odd gasp of pain, reaching out for her again.

At the edge of the barrier, his shaking hand touched hers. His barrier began to allow her through, his hand tightening on hers.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed in a panic to him, wide-eyed as his barrier enveloped her. His tight grip on her hand made her jumpy as he pulled her closer. She took the initiative to grab hold of him, helping him to stand on his shaky legs. "Why the hell—?!"

And then his power began to shorten out. The barrier flickered, and panic overwhelmed him too. He bared his fangs at the invisible crowd of guffawing courtiers, as if to warn them he would still fight.

But suddenly, only Valerie's voice existed. He found himself leaning hard on her in exhaustion, breathing hard as he stared at the clean walls of the infirmary and not Pariah Dark's dungeon.

"Dammit, Dan," she was hissing at him in worry, grimacing as she struggled with his full weight. She wrapped one of his emaciated arms over her shoulder. "Don't know what the hell you're trying to prove. Sit back down before you break my spine."

He blinked at the worried grumble of her voice, struggling reconcile his mind with the reality that they were in no danger at all beyond his own stupidity. They were not in Pariah Dark's castle. They were not surrounded by the enemy.

The broken shade who was once Dan Phantom, Ravager of Worlds, stumbled back once more against the bed in a daze. He could smell the shampoo of Valerie's hair, the sterile scent of the infirmary…

"Mmh," he complained, his voice a baritone rumble between them, nearly border-lining on something hysterical. He felt her begin to move away once he'd managed to sit down on the mattress. He was confused. The only thing he knew was Valerie. That he could not allow her to die, even though he knew things were strained between them.

Valerie looked frazzled, her eyes red-rimmed with barely withheld tears. She looked as if she would either punch him or begin to cry. "What the hell," she said again. "First, you bite me, and now, I dunno, you're seeing shit that's not there…?" She looked down at her armored forearm, pulling up her radar. By some miracle, Dan's odd outburst hadn't registered under a ghost signature of any kind. Rather, it seemed to be a more rudimentary ectoplasmic pulse—not something unlike the bursts of power from the Ghost Zone's strange geographical structures, like its sideways lightning that struck at random times or its volcanic eruptions from within other dimensions. Perhaps Pariah Dark would discount it, but that left an overarching concern about Phantom himself.

She glanced away tiredly, rubbing her eyes. "I can't do this," she whispered, mind racing. "This is just…this is all my fault. Too many risks. I should've never…"

Her voice trailed off. She didn't know what she was doing, and Dan was…not right. A different version of insane with the likelihood of becoming a serious problem once again. Even if there were shreds of good in him now, they were at the mercy of his own instincts to lash out.

Perhaps Vlad had been right. Keeping Phantom weak would have been the smarter option.

By that point, Dan had realized he'd had another strange episode, and that he'd failed to discern between past and present. He watched her apprehensively, his own eyes bloodshot with exhaustion. His standing with Valerie had dropped—perhaps to the point of real punishment this time. He could not afford to lose her favor. He did not want to lose her. "Mmh," he pleaded, as if to catch her attention despite his crippled tongue.

Valerie did not pull her hands away from her eyes as she tried to hide her emotions.

In response, Dan reached up and gently wrapped his long, cold fingers around her injured hand—the one with the gauze. "Mmh," he said more insistently. He had to do something.

Something that Valerie would understand in her own language.

Valerie stiffened at the contact and the gentle but pressing urgency with which he pulled her hand to himself. Her face was red around her eyes from her impending tears. "What?" she snapped.

And then Dan Phantom, Ravager of Worlds, pulled her forward with a surprising strength.

The Red Huntress stumbled toward him in a yelp, thinking that he was attacking her. But as she fell forward and felt his arms wrap around her, she realized he was…embracing her?

His cold nose touched the side of her neck, and he held her tightly, burrowing into her warmth. His muscles trembled. He knew touch was a powerful thing. He feared the pain of it as much as he desired the memory of Valerie stroking his hair.

"Um," she rasped out in surprise. As she tried to pull him off of her, she realized he was stuck to her like glue. And not only that, but she felt one of his hands reach up to run down her frizzy hair—clumsily and hesitant at first, and then with more purposeful grace. His fingers twirled into her curls, brushing against her ear and the nape of her neck. A soft, repetitive motion.

It hit her that this was what she had done for him when he'd broken down. He was mimicking her. Petting her hair.

Her breath hitched for a second, almost as if she would laugh or cry. A broken Dan Phantom attempting to comfort anyone was beyond her. His touch was reverent—like he was fearful of doing the wrong thing. "What the hell?" she asked, but her voice was soft.

As he still could not speak, he hoped that Valerie would be able to catch his meaning.

And it seemed, soon enough, that his olive branch had the right effect. Valerie's soreness at him quickly wore into exhaustion, and she relaxed against him in a bit of a huffy awe. She shifted a bit in his arms, reluctantly wrapping an arm around his waist to anchor herself. "Dammit, Dan," she complained in defeat. "What is this? Some kind of weird apology?"

Time passed in the silence as Dan leaned his head against hers, closing his eyes tiredly. Yes. He was exhausted from fighting her, his memories, himself. He wanted things to return as they were before he'd remembered. He did not know if that were possible. Probably not.

But he figured this was at least a compromise.

"…You still owe me some floor plans of Pariah Dark's castle and bunch of other shit," Valerie murmured petulantly, her voice muffled against his hair. "Today."

He nodded against her.

"…And don't ever bite me again."

He nodded once more, face twitching at the memory.

"…And you need a shower, because you smell like sweat and antiseptic, and I dunno which is worse."


A/N: Hey everyone, sorry about the late update. Amid my own health stuff and visiting family members, I binge-watched Transformers Prime. I didn't think I'd like that show, but I did. Probably because it got pretty dark. Also, I've been fretting about the upcoming American presidential election...

As far as this chapter, I missed Karma and have been promising an update on it for some time, so here it is. I brought in my OC Nina once more, with the idea that she might still pop in on occasion. I apologize if anything seems rushed or unedited in my attempt to get this update out the door tonight.

For upcoming chapters: Monsta challenged me to do a Halloween series. I'm debating on plots. Probably a two-parter. Let me know if there's any Halloween plots you'd like to see me try!

Please review with your thoughts and ideas. Thank you!