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One-shot summary: The Red Huntress and Dan Phantom are official allies against the stream of new ghosts invading the Wastelands. But one ghost knows just the right strings to pull to bring them to their knees.
Chapter warnings: Language, mentions of character death, typical Dan-type violence
Deliverance
Shot 66: Crystalline
In great irritation, Dan kicked Amity Park's Shield. "Valerie!" he snarled. The Shield reverberated with an electric shock that siphoned up his ankle, but it did not deter him beyond his face tightening. His blood eyes narrowed. "Dammit, I am—" he blasted the damn barrier— "trying to have—" he snarled— "a conversation with you." He huffed, haughtily tossing a few fly-away flickers of his hair and stared out at the city before him.
The buildings and streets were silent without a soul in sight. Just as they had been for the last several days. It was all most unusual.
The infamous Dan Phantom, who demanded all and waited for none, had long lost his patience. He placed his large hand against the Shield, gritting through the electricity to push his hand through. It was too much—he pulled back, and then slammed his burned fist on the barrier, his glove falling to pieces upon the ground.
"I will not be ignored!" he snarled. His eyes burned a hot orange as he stood there, awaiting life to arrive to him. "My mercy is waning, and if you do not appear soon, I shall use a great power against you—a power I've yet to test upon your Shield. Perhaps it will fall this day, and you will have only yourself to blame!"
That seemed to do it.
The main resistance building, which stood stalwart at the edge of the town, had automated double doors. They began to shutter back into the walls.
And there, from out of the darkness, came a figure that was most certainly not Valerie Gray.
Dan's red eyes narrowed.
The human was none other than Valerie's father, Damon Gray. He was an old man now, his once-dark hair streaked gray. He seemed to be limping more than usual, his movements slow and guarded.
"What the hell is this?" Dan snarled. "I demand your Red Huntress, and your city sends me the posterchild for a nursing home?"
Damon's singular eye snapped up to him, brilliant with tears and emotion. The eye was the same color as Valerie's—and it disturbed Dan to see her reflected in another human being. "My daughter," he said, voice weak, "is not here."
The powerful being did not answer for some time, his gaze locked with the father's with an increasing number of questions. "I do not sense her in the Wastelands," he said eventually. It was perhaps the closest to a genuine conversation he'd had with another human in ten years. "Therefore, she must be here, in Amity Park."
The old man sighed, and his shoulders bowed over a little more. His lips turned with a pained grimace. The action made him appear thinner, less alive. His dark skin was pale. "It's not that simple."
Dan's eyes narrowed further, his fire hair flickering against his cheek as he tilted his head. "And why is it not simple?"
With a shallow cough—he was still healing from some kind of illness?—Damon took a step forward. His voice lowered into a near whisper, almost incomprehensible beneath the hum of the Shield between them. He sounded afraid. "My daughter has done something. The people don't know yet, and you being here like this is raising questions."
The fear in the father inspired Dan to step closer as well. "What do you mean?" he demanded, the anger in his face giving way to a spark of concern. "What has she done?"
Damon's breath hitched. "I know that—in some way, you care for her."
"Dammit, do not change the subject." The ghost slammed his fist on the Shield, the muscles in his neck and arm tightening with a deep foreboding. The Shield's electricity struck up to his elbow. "Where is she? What—?"
The father's voice broke, quick and pained. "—She's dead."
Dan paused. He blinked. And then his fist slid mindlessly from the Shield, the flickering electricity dying away into sparks around his burned, trembling fingers. His handsome face twisted. "…What?"
"I was sick," the father whispered tightly. "Dying. She went out into the Wastelands to find a cure—and something else found her."
Dan inhaled sharply, and he stepped backward. "No," he retorted, his red eyes dark. His lip curled in a snarl of panic. "No, that cannot be true. She is not dead—I would have known." His power core flared unsteadily in his chest, the ghost equivalent of an adrenaline rush storming into his veins. "I would have known."
His mind raced with the images of the Wastelands. He had neither seen nor felt the signature of her suit in days. It was if she had simply disappeared. Surely, he would not have missed her shining red armor, her body lying broken in some ditch from a passing ghost—
Dan snarled out, "Why do you say she is dead? How do you know this to be true?"
The father hesitated for a time, then said, "You know of the ghosts who've been invading from the Zone?"
"How could I not." He'd lost all sense of propriety in that moment. "How does this relate to Valerie?"
The way Dan said her name sometimes—it was terribly full of emotion. Over the last few years, the infamous Dan Phantom had lost some of his fury and insanity, instead toying with Amity Park the way a bored cat would with a ball of string—pawing at it occasionally, claws not even extended. He took his greatest satisfaction in toying with Valerie. Their battles had become less harrowing and more a scattered rain of half-hearted insults, in which he battled her simply to test her own strength, to keep her talking to him.
But as his power waned against Amity Park, it seemed other ghosts from the Zone took it to mean that Phantom was vulnerable. That the Wastelands were for the taking.
Now, it was not rare for the Red Huntress and Dan Phantom to ally themselves in the name of defeating a common enemy. It had been a highly successful strategy thus far, with Amity Park's Shield still proudly standing against all ghosts, and the Wastelands still largely under the control of Phantom.
To Amity Park, Phantom was a known evil, partially tamed by Valerie herself. And that was much better than dealing with the unknown evil of a thousand other ghosts.
Simple, post-apocalyptic politics.
Damon confessed, "I believe we were targeted by a new ghost—one with incredible powers." He swallowed hard. "Even beneath the Shield, I began emitting some kind of signature. I became very sick. I think Valerie identified the ghost's signature and went after it." His breath hitched again. "It must have been some sort of trap, to use me to get to—"
"—How do you know she is dead?" Dan snarled again, eyes hot orange in panic. "How do you know that?"
Not wanting to risk Phantom's fury, the father pulled out a small device from his pocket. "Back when you were more…violent, we rigged her suit's tracker to also report on her vital signs, in case we needed to send backup." His voice wavered. "Two days ago, she flat-lined suddenly."
The history on the chart suggested Valerie's heart had been pounding, although her breathing rhythms were not erratic. She'd been afraid, but had not been fighting. And then, just shortly after midday, all of her vital signs dropped to zero. "Did you send a support team?" he demanded, red eyes flickering.
"Yes. None of them came back." Damon's breath hitched. "I'm afraid they're dead too."
Dan's voice was an odd waver of fury. "And you did not think to alert me?"
The father's throat tightened. "Your comm frequency with Valerie's suit was encrypted in a way we couldn't crack. It'd been a security measure to protect our main lines. We never imagined we'd have to contact you outside of her."
Suddenly, Dan raised his hand and blasted the Shield between them in a flare of his temper. Damon flinched. "Damn you and your human fears about security," he snarled. "How typical of Amity Park to be so near-sighted." His breath hitched at the thought of finding Valerie's body, already two days dead. This was not the end he had imagined for her. It simply could not be the end—for her to slip away so quietly and mysteriously into oblivion—"You could have sent a flare. Anything."
Damon's voice raised in pain. "And risk alerting the other ghosts that we're vulnerable? Right now, we're not being attacked. Aside from you. I want to keep it that way." His eyes brightened with tears. "As much as I love my daughter, I cannot risk endangering the countless other families who live here."
Dan's lip curled in a soundless snarl as he stared at the father with hard eyes.
Something shifted in his power core to pure fear.
Valerie was dead—Valerie was dead—Valerie was dead—
Damon's voice was quiet. "There's something else too. I haven't shared this with anyone else."
With some awkward dexterity, the father pushed a button with his thumb on the screen. Then he gently pushed the device through the Shield, his human hand slipping to the other side of the electrical field as if it were air.
Phantom's strong, powerful fingers grasped the device, which still tingled to touch per its crossing of the Shield. He pulled it from Damon's hand and stared down at the screen. On it was a powerful ghost signature—identified as Valerie Gray per her suit tracker.
And then he looked up at Damon, eyes wide in genuine consternation.
The father broke. "Please," he begged. "She did something to lift that ghost's curse from me, and the cost was her life. I don't care what she is now; I just want my baby girl home."
The Wastelands, over what was once the western coast of Canada, had grown unruly. Large coastal skyscrapers now stood in the midst of nature. Vines and trees snaked out from windows—fallen stoplights had shattered red, yellow, and green glass upon cracked asphalt. The entire city was silent, save for the sound of a few daring birds, the rustling of the sapling trees, the creaking of an old sign blowing back and forth in the wind…
Dan landed silently in the middle of the downtown, face tense. His cape billowed out around his ankles.
Here, Valerie's ectoplasmic signature pulsed with a deep thrum. It was powerful enough that the epicenter spanned over the majority of the downtown sector. He narrowed red eyes. "Where are you," he murmured under his breath, an uneasy edge to his voice.
He could feel it now—her power. His ghost sense absolutely buzzed with it.
The old sign in the distance creaked again like a lullaby, and a cold wind swept in.
"Are you avoiding me?" he dared to call out. His baritone voice turned with irritation and worry. "Surely, with your great power, you know I am here!"
Still no answer.
He clenched his powerful hand around Damon's tracker, which still beeped with the confirmation that he was in the epicenter of one Valerie Gray's power. It bothered him that her signature was powerful enough to challenge his own. He could feel the tinges of her signature storming against his, like sharp wires in the farthest reaches of his mind.
"Do not tell me," he snarled, "that in death, the great Red Huntress became a coward."
Nothing once more.
He stepped forward. "Alone. Forgotten in the Wastelands." His voice strained. "How did you die, Valerie? Will I yet find your decayed body in my territory? Is that why you so hide your face—out of shame?"
And then suddenly, movement.
His eyes snapped to the left. There, near the trees of a small city park—
Dan blurred forward, reaching out. But the spark of a bright, white glow disappeared before he came close. And then it was gone, the bushes and grass swaying hard with the force of his flight. His foot slammed to the ground. The earth shook. The sign swaying in the distance rattled.
"Dammit, Valerie," he rasped, raising up to his full height, his cape fluttering in the wind. He dropped Damon's tracker to the ground in favor of honing his attention fully on his surroundings. "I can sense your energy. I know it is you playing games."
Another flash to the right. He turned this time, his dark brows angling hard in consternation. She was fast—far faster than even him, to the point that her flight blurred her into near invisibility. Whatever had changed her into a ghost, it had made her very powerful.
"What happened to you?" he demanded, voice hardening. "The force you wield suggests you died from a great trauma. But I know from your father's tracker that you were not fighting when you died." His jaw set uneasily. "It was a decision. Emotional pain of some kind."
Perhaps, in ways, greater than his own.
His white hair flickered across his cheeks with the wind as he turned again, his eyes searching the outline of the nearby buildings and the great trees.
"Do you honestly think," he said, this time his tone more pained, "that I, of all people, would shame you for your transformation?"
There was a beat of silence. And then another one, with his power core thrumming in time with her own.
A dark, glowing hand dug into the bricks of the nearest building, the fingers were tentative and tense as more of the form dared to peek out from behind the bricks. A sharp light appeared in a stunning array of greens and blues.
Dan realized he was staring at the edge of a wing. But instead of feathers, it was crystalline ectoplasm—the most powerful concentration of ectoplasm known. The thrum of Valerie's core struck his hard in that moment.
Or perhaps it was his own dead heart daring to beat.
His eyes widened as he watched dark tresses appear from beyond the corner, the darkness fading as the great light of the ghost's body cast across the street. It was certainly Valerie—but she was heavily altered.
Her dark hair fell loosely down her red-covered shoulders—
—And Dan's jaw dropped.
The ghostly remains of one Valerie Gray floated fully before him, shrouded by her crystalline wings. The angles of the wings suddenly reminded him of the plating of her jet sled, sharp and dangerous. He could see that she wore a mask, plated in a way similar to her wings.
Beneath the mask, her eyes glowed gold.
For a time, Dan remained stunned by the sight of her.
And then she charged him, her dark hands coming together to materialize a sharp blade. It was all he could do to raise his hand in time, his long fingers locking around her strong wrist, the force of their skin hitting together in a slap that jerked his entire being.
He grimaced, eyes darkening with an instinctive drive to fight. The blade between them glimmered darkly. "What are you doing?" he hissed. He tightened his grip upon her.
The ghost of Valerie suddenly materialized into a wisp, his fingers clenching into a fist as her form disappeared. Then he felt her presence before he could see it and just narrowly avoided her blade as she reappeared behind him.
Dust kicked up between them as he shot a blast at her, coiling his body to avoid another slash of her blade.
Something in her actions were unnatural. She did not speak—the greatest rarity of all. And though her movements were sharp and precise as always, there was a jerk within them. As if…she were not in control?
His muscles flexed as he jolted forward, grabbing onto the hilt of her sword to wrench it from her hands. "Valerie," he hissed in panic, grimacing at her strength. "Dammit, just—stop."
The gold eyes beneath the mask held no recognition. Her dark hands resisted him with greater force, the muscles of her arms taut. The great light of her wings nearly blinded him.
Old fury rose in him, and he stopped playing games. The ghost flexed his muscles hard and forcibly tore the sword from her. Its blade struck the ground to his right, and he shoved her back. Her wings flexed outward to rebalance her, but it was not enough, and so she fell hard to the ground in a shimmer of light.
Her mask cracked from the force.
Before she could move, he dropped over her, slamming her wrists down into the dirt and straddling her hips with his own. His cape draped over them both as his knees dug into the metal plating lining her legs. "Just stop," he commanded, wine eyes wide. His hair flickered with panic. "I need you to stop, or I will use greater power against you."
The inky locks of her hair seemed to twist of their own volition as the ghost beneath him tilted her head. Her bare limbs began to relax in the dirt.
It was strange, not to feel a maddening heartbeat or to hear the raging echo of her breaths. Instead, the crystallized edges of her wings seemed to contract and expand for her—the only indication of anxiety. Her coldness seeped easily into his skin, raising the hair on the nape of his neck.
He dared to move one hand from her wrist to pull off her mask. "Something is wrong with you," he murmured in worry. "Ghost or not, you've never been this silent. And after all we've been through, you would not so easily strike me. Are you under someone's control?"
As he pulled off the mask, he caught sight of familiar, full lips—the strong arc of her jaw, her high cheekbones.
Those gold eyes of hers snapped to him as he tossed the mask aside to stare at her, lips in a tight line.
And for a good several seconds, he remained frozen by her. "Do you recognize me?" he murmured.
The crystalline shards of her wings stretched out in discomfort as she stared up at him, her gold eyes narrowing. She tried to move beneath him, but he held her steady. Nothing in her seemed to indicate that she knew him at all.
Dan's face twisted hard. With little preamble, he slapped her hard, and her neck snapped sideways. "Wake up," he hissed. "Dammit, wake up."
She froze for a time, even as her dark cheek flushed a strange green. A flicker of Valerie—her eyes widened in surprise—tightened her mouth and made her jaw clench. They had so rarely struck each other in the face. It felt too personal, too taboo, even for them.
"We all forget ourselves," he whispered to her, voice hard. "But it has been days. This is not natural. You should know me."
The woman beneath him readjusted her jaw and turned her head back to eye him hard. Her dark, sculpted brows angled down in anger.
Dan pressed against her harder, his face only inches from hers. He cupped her chin tightly. "Talk to me," he demanded. "Prove that you are Valerie, and not simply her shell."
Her breath hitched then.
Another flicker of Valerie.
The male licked his lips, mind racing. "I would have thought you'd at least insult me for striking you. This is worrisome. You make me consider more drastic measures."
Already, the flush of green upon her cheek was beginning to heal over into her usual brown skin. And so, with nothing to lose, Dan kissed her hard.
Valerie's full lips were not warm. They were as cold as his own, the vibration of her power core like a buzz against his mouth. It was an alien feeling—and she hitched a breath between their lips, her gold eyes widening.
Dan's dark brows knitted together as he deepened the kiss, fervently demanding her attention—that she react.
Valerie's wrists began to jerk and struggle against his hold, and he pulled his hand away, fulling expecting the hardest slap of his afterlife. Instead, her scarred fingers slipped up his muscles sides, grasping onto him for stability as her body reacted to him. Her full lips stretched with his hesitantly at first, and then soon with increasing desire. Her eyes closed. A gasp of need thrummed in her throat and vibrated into his lips.
He pressed himself closer to her with a moan, pinning her between himself and the ground. His hand upon her chin grew lax, his fingers slipping down the line of her jaw and her neck. Her body was familiar to him in ways—but never before had he touched her so. The experience was a rush of adrenaline, a spike of nerves tingling at the base of his spine. Valerie's mouth and body were cold like that of a ghost's, but it was her.
It was her.
She hesitantly pushed him away with a great reluctance, her mouth still open in awe and lips bruised with the passion of his kiss. Her golden eyes opened, and then her beautiful face twisted with the full soul of one Valerie Gray, and in a sharp blur of power, she pressed her hand against his chest. A great light burst forward and shot him back.
Dan fell back in a blur. His powerful shoulders hit the dirt in a spray of dust.
Valerie quickly flew forward and straddled him, pulling out a smaller dagger from the plated armor down her legs. She held it just an inch above his vulnerable neck, her golden eyes blown wide in recognition.
And there the two remained frozen for time.
Dan stared up at her without fear, even as his chest ached with a deep burn. His skin and jumpsuit quickly began to regenerate in the silence. "Say something," he demanded, voice pained.
The woman above him hesitated, her face tightening. The soul of Valerie stared fully from out of her distorted visage, but it seemed something still caged her. She swallowed hard, the muscles in her neck straining.
"Valerie," he said again. He did not want to admit that it was a plea. He reached up to touch her face. His bare fingers slipped against her cheek.
She inhaled shakily, closing her eyes at his touch. The dagger in her hand materialized into dust, and her lips moved in a silent word, which was his name.
Her scarred fingertips shook as she touched his face in return, with rage or adoration—Dan did not know. But her hard callouses were a familiar friction to him. A relief that, even in her state, Valerie was here with him.
"Why do you not speak?" he dared to whisper to her, leaning his head to the side to maximize her touch. His blood red eyes searched her tense face. "Truly, you usually desire nothing more than to insult me."
Valerie swallowed hard, then opened her golden eyes. She looked terribly frustrated in that moment, her brows knitting together in pain. She pulled away to touch her throat, as if to say, I can't.
"Why can you not speak?" In curiosity of her altered visage, he swept his fingers down her shoulder, daring to reach out and lightly touch the crystallized ectoplasm that was her wings.
Valerie's full lips dropped open in a gasp, her sculpted brows knitting together. Her wings were sensitive. She quickly grabbed onto his hand and pulled it back down, pinning it down above his head. The action made her wings stretch out farther, catching the light and casting an array of blue and greens upon them both.
Like this, their chests were only inches from each other, their hips jammed together. Dan did not entirely mind being so vulnerable beneath Valerie.
His thin lips stretched, revealing a roguish fang. "Oh, Valerie dear," he murmured to her. "Mute or not, I must say, I do not mind your new…appearance." He allowed his eyes to trail down her front, where her full breasts were hardly covered by sharp bands of metal, the flat of her stomach revealed.
Valerie's eyes narrowed in embarrassed anger, and she crunched in with her powerful thighs, making one of the bones in his leg pop. He grunted beneath her with a grimace, curling his lip to reveal a fang in displeasure.
And then he rolled them.
Her wings twisted and slammed hard into the ground, digging into the dirt.
Dan stared down at her, eyes hard. "I was trying to give you a compliment," he complained haughtily. "But truly, this getup of yours should be between us alone." He leaned down, brushing his nose against hers, even as he tightened his grip on her wrists. "It seems far too revealing for you to have chosen on your own."
Her breath hitched again, and her neck leaned sideways as she bit her lip.
He leaned in closer, daring to murmur against the skin of her neck, "Who killed you, Valerie? Why did you not remember me?"
She pressed her lithe hand against his chest and pushed him off gently. Her wings flexed up with her as she dug her elbow into the dirt to sit up. Her eyes searched his for a second or two with great hesitance. And then she turned to the dirt and began to draw a word with her finger.
D-I-S-C-O-R—
Suddenly, she gasped in pain, her finger jerking against the dirt. Her golden eyes blew wide as she planted her hand hard over the letters she'd already spelt.
"Valerie?" he murmured.
She turned to look at him, and suddenly no recognition echoed from her. Her face grew smooth of emotion. And she attacked, one wing surging into him.
It was too fast.
The sharp crystal of her wings punctured deep into his shoulder, his chest, his side. Dan cried out as his ectoplasm splattered the dirt—and then suddenly the crystal feathers jerked him down to the ground. The ghost gasped again, instinctively grabbing for her wing to wrench it from him.
Her face darkened as her body began to glow brighter. Suddenly, she twisted her wing, which twisted the spears still impaling him.
Dan's rasp of pain was ugly, wrecked with a gurgle. One of her feather spears had punctured his power core. His mind fragmented in a mix of shock and horror. His fingers around her wing struggled to hold a glow to blast her.
The great Valerie Gray stared down at him in unnatural satisfaction of his pain. "You," she said, although her voice was modulated, echoing with tones far deeper than her own, "cannot save her. She is mine now."
Another twist of the wing. Another rasp of pain.
"How sickening," murmured the ghost, tilting Valerie's head and allowing her long, curly locks to fall over her chest. A dark hand demurely brushed a few strands out of golden eyes. "You so easily fall to a vision of power and beauty."
His voice was a harsh rasp. "No," he snarled, suddenly realizing what was happening. This ghost of Valerie—she was being controlled. It wasn't her hurting him.
It was someone else.
Dan grabbed onto her wing and wrenched it hard, his fingers slicing open on the sharp edges of the crystalized feathers. Bright green blood slipped down to his wrist. "You will not distort her," he rasped. "Whatever you have done, you will reverse it."
Suddenly, Valerie's soul slammed back through her eyes, her beautiful face twisting in pain as he yanked on her sensitive wings.
Dan stopped immediately, breathing hard as he held his side. "Valerie?"
Valerie stared at him in horror at the blood trailing down his jumpsuit—and his blood upon her wings—
She reached out to him in desperation.
And then her face twisted again in hatred, and she slammed him back. Two toned thighs straddled him. "Ah, ah," Valerie murmured, her tone turning with something entirely unnatural. "Hurt me. And you hurt her." A scarred, lithe finger trailed down Dan's chest. The wing he'd yanked hovered at a strange angle over her back. "Unless that's how you two like to play?"
And then suddenly, the ghostly remains of Valerie Gray materialized into the air, leaving Dan to bleed out in the dirt in the abandoned city, his red eyes wide to heaven.
The only sound then was the nearby sign creaking in the wind as he gasped for air he did not need.
Sometime later, there was the crackling of a voice.
"—antom?" crackled in a familiar, male voice. "Phantom, please come in, over."
A bleary eye shifted to the near distance, where he'd dropped Damon's tracker. Dan's power core had stuttered hard enough that he feared he would fade out. Even attempting to twitch his fingers took a particular level of effort.
He closed his eyes, face haggard as his wounds continued to feverishly knit themselves with blood and sinew.
"This is Commander Damon Gray, hailing Phantom. Please, come in immediately. We've registered another massive wave of ectoplasmic energy in your tracked location, over."
Dan dared to groan. Even across the continent, it seemed Amity Park could not leave him alone. "Go away," he moaned. He managed to raise a hand feebly before it fell limp to the ground.
It struck him as odd that Valerie had not finished him off. Whoever was controlling her had designs far beyond his understanding in that moment.
Perhaps enough of Valerie was left in that form to protect him.
He liked that idea.
"Hailing Phantom. Please come in immediately, over."
Dan tested raising his hand once more and realized that he could in fact move. But it made the sensitive clots in his chest pull strangely, and so he hesitated once more. "Shut up," he moaned, even though he knew Damon could not hear him. He instead ran a hand down his face. It was only then he realized his ghost sense was going off.
A heavy, buckled boot suddenly slammed down on Damon's tracker, shattering the tech into pieces with a burst of electricity.
"Ugh," said an unfamiliar female voice. "Humans. Am I right?"
The distant sign creaking stopped. Dan's exhausted eyes snapped to the right, too tired to look up.
"They're so loud. They disrupt the natural order of things." The voice was smooth and derisive as he watched the boots walk closer to him. The tracker still buzzed with electrical discharge. "They act so…unpredictable sometimes. Like you."
Dan rasped in a breath of air that he did not need, his dead lungs expanding. He managed to turn his head up.
The body was that of a ghost's, with a dark skirt and toned, blue skin. Her sclerae were a pure white. The aura she exuded was powerful—like a battering ram against his wounded core.
Dan's lip curled in a silent snarl, his eyes darkening. A weak, red barrier flickered around him.
The woman ran a hand through her white mohawk, sighing in irritation. "The great Dan Phantom. Felled by a puppet with a pretty face." And then she shoved her hand through the barrier, and it died with a shower of sparks.
Her dark boot nudged his tense cheek, forcing him to look at her in the eye.
"Maybe the rumors are true," she murmured. "Your alliances with the Red Huntress have made you far more vulnerable than I could have imagined."
In disgust, Dan managed to jerk his face away from her boot,
She kneeled down and grabbed his chin. Her fingers were like steel. "Listen," she hissed, "when your superiors are talking to you."
His old fury reared hard in him, and his eyes narrowed to slits. He licked away some blood at his lips. "You," he rasped, "are n-not my superior."
The ghost's lips stretched in a thin way. The humor did not reach her eyes. "Tough words for a ghost ready to fade out." And then she slammed her hand down on his side, right over his puncture wounds.
His mouth opened in a gasp, his vision searing white.
The ghost murmured with false sympathy, "I came to offer you help. You're too fun a creation to let go."
A few of his puncture wounds began to seal over fully despite his pain. She was feeding power into him. "Wh-what are—?"
Her voice wavered in his mind. "—Don't you want to save her—what do you call her sometimes? Valerie dear?"
Dan grabbed onto her arm, rasping as he felt her power swarm into him. His eyes widened hard. He only said Valerie dear when they were alone. "H-how do you—?"
"—Don't hurt yourself," she deadpanned. "The jackass who's got her under control is an enemy of mine. But I like to stay…in the background of things. I need someone loud and annoying like you to take him out."
He snarled at her.
"It's a simple question," she hissed. "Do you want to save Valerie or not?" She stared at him as if he were a specimen under a microscope.
His red eyes were tense, even as he felt his power core thrum once more in health. "Yes," he rasped.
"…Good."
There was a beat of hesitation. Then the mysterious ghost waved her hand, and suddenly the ground seemed to disappear beneath him, and darkness surrounded him—and he was falling—and falling—
Valerie came back to herself at the edge of a great cliff, her vision blurring as she fell to her bare knees. The plates of metal at her hips clung hard in the silence. Her wings, which hovered over her back, still hung in awkward ways, a few crystal shards dried with Dan's blood.
Her scarred fingers dug into the dirt as her gold eyes stared out at the vast silence. Her breath was hitching, her dead lungs squeezing hard.
A wind caressed her face. Do not cry.
She raised her hand to her face, trailing her fingers down her cheek and then her lips.
"First, the soldiers," she said, voice halted and hoarse with disuse. Raw emotion made her tremble. "And now you make me hurt him."
There was a beat of silence, and then she felt her throat tighten up unnaturally.
Shut up, commanded the voice. You complain too much.
She slammed her fist on the ground, fighting the power that controlled her. She would not continue to make things easy for him. "N-no," she rasped. "Y-you made a deal. My life for m-my dad's." Her gold eyes narrowed, her hair slipping down her shoulders. Her voice broke. "This is more."
You didn't get a lawyer to review the conditions of the deal, my dear. The wind caressed through her hair like fingers, but it hurt. Her breath hitched as she raised a wing to hide her face from the great power. Life can include afterlife as well. For all time.
"I'm not yours," she cried out. "Dammit, I'm not. I'm—"
Her full lips zipped shut of their own volition. Quiet, slave. Your voice is ugly to me.
Her eyes lit bright as the sun in fury. She raised her hands and blasted the sky. Her crystal wings swung hard before her hands, the blast amplifying from the magnification of the crystal.
But the great power simply dissipated into the clouds.
Her full lips pressed tightly together, then began to quiver. It wouldn't be long, she imagined, before he took control of her body again, only for her to wake up to another horror. She tried to shift her form to cover herself, only for the ectoplasm racing through her to reject her demands.
She swung her great wings around herself then, mind racing.
On the far side of the Ghost Zone, a dark form materialized, a buckled skirt swaying with each step. "Clockwork," the female ghost called with a dry irritation. "The human world is facing an imbalance of power, no thanks to your own ridiculous actions."
"How nice of you to drop by, Fate," said the Master of Time, voice distracted. He was tinkering with an old wooden clock from the 1800s, neither bothered by her presence nor pleased by it.
"I brought you a present." She snapped her fingers, and suddenly a dark portal appeared from the ceiling.
One powerful being slammed to the ground in a groan, his cape a twist about his body.
"Ah, Phantom. How nice of you to drop in as well," Clockwork said, lips stretching at his own pun.
The disoriented Dan clawed at the floor of Clockwork's lair. He raised his head, his hair in a tumble about his cheeks, which were flushed with full health—and fury. "I," he rasped, "have been falling for thirty minutes."
"…It was good for you," said the ghost named Fate. She crossed her arms as she kicked at his side. "Now get up."
He grabbed onto her boot and crunched in with a blast, but it did nothing to harm her or the metal of her shoe. He tensed and pushed himself upon his elbow, expression dark with consternation. "What are you?" he demanded. "How do you know Clockwork?"
Fate tilted her head, and her white hair shifted across her cheeks. "We're old acquaintances. He gets in my way a lot."
"Or, rather, it is the other way around," Clockwork deadpanned. "But not today." He turned away from his clock to stare at Dan, who was struggling up into a stand, still flushed. "I see you have survived your wounds. Very good."
Dan's eyes narrowed to slits, his irises glowing hot. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded. He looked stricken. "Why am I here? Why do you have lackies in the Wastelands now, and how does this all—"
"—Patience, young one." The title made Dan snarl harder, but Clockwork paid no mind. "Everything is as it should be."
"Do not treat me as a child," Dan hissed. He ran his hand down the line of his chest, feeling a strange distance about the serious wounds Valerie had managed to inflict with his guard down. He felt out of control at every level. His hackles rose the longer he stared at Clockwork, then back at the odd ghost named Fate. "And do not dare to spin your shitty proverbs at me."
Clockwork's red eyes darkened as he stared at Dan. "You do not wish to be treated as a child? Fine." And then he swept his hand to the right. "This is a point in time where our agendas are not entirely opposed. The ghost who has ensnared the Red Huntress is also an enemy of mine." A portal stretched open in the midst of the air, and within it an image began to form. "His name is Discord."
The image in the portal took shape as a snake-man who wore a black tunic with a torn purple cloak that hung over his eyes. His long, green tail was half-rotted. A great ball of power hovered in his hands.
And then suddenly, Discord's face turned to stare directly into the portal.
Clockwork recalled his power, and the portal misted out in a shower of sparks. "This…Discord is ancient, having fed off the natural chaos of the Ghost Zone and Human World for eons. The more entropy he can create, the more powerful he becomes."
"That must burn you," Dan deadpanned, "considering how you like to place all things in controllable, little boxes."
The Master of Time's face did not change expression. "It is particularly disturbing to me," he agreed slowly. "And I would think it disturbing to you as well, given the monster that your Red Huntress has become."
The ghost's eyes narrowed. "So you two brought me here to what, fight him on your behalf?"
"To warn you," Clockwork corrected. "Discord has great powers. If you wish to free your Huntress from him, you must not feed into chaos, as you so usually do."
The ghost named Fate stood in the shadows, arms crossed, her lithe fingers tapping in an impatient rhythm against her skin.
Dan's eyes flickered between them. He said, voice hardening with derision, "Why not fight your own battle? If this Discord is your enemy, then it is your responsibility to free Valerie."
His challenge echoed through the lair with a heavy weight, and the three ghosts remained silent for a time.
Clockwork eventually spoke. "I cannot, for various reasons, fight Discord directly. Our powers are far too contrary to exist on the same plane. But I know you are fond of deals. Therefore, if you agree to fight Discord, I shall unlock various powers that you would not have until ten years from now."
The offer automatically was appealing. Dan narrowed his eyes. "And what abilities are those?"
"Abilities that you need to maintain your empire. Without your rage, your power wanes. Your territories in the Wastelands are constantly threatened by ghosts who seek to challenge you. Your alliances with Amity Park are not simply out of desire for Valerie Gray."
The younger ghost stepped back, eying him hard. "And Valerie? Will it be enough to break her from this…Discord's control?"
"It will be, if you use your powers correctly and not so easily trust the ghost of your lover."
His lip curled, revealing fangs. "She is not my lover."
Clockwork's hood shifted. "And yet you kiss her as though she is."
Dan's eyes narrowed to slits. "How dare you—"
"—But your affairs are not my concern. Time is running out."
"Do not rush me," he spat out. "You are a conniving, manipulative fool, and I know exactly what you're doing. You are attempting to squish me beneath your thumb—to make me a puppet."
In the background, Fate rolled her eyes. "It's an easy choice, Phantom."
Not for the first time, the ghost felt out of control. This new world—where it was no longer just him and Valerie battling—made him uneasy. He backstepped, his cape fluttering about his ankles. "I will fight your enemy only this one time, to save Valerie. If I accept the power you offer, you cannot hold it against me to fight a second time in your name."
Clockwork paused, then nodded. "Fair enough."
"…Then I accept your deal."
"Very good." The Master of Time turned to Fate. "Will you do the honors?"
The female inhaled, then exhaled with irritation. "You're messing up my own timeline, you know." But she acquiesced and stretched out her hand—
—and suddenly a great light seared over Dan, sinking deep into his power core.
Valerie stood in the midst of a snowy valley, far north in Canada. Her thick hair flowed freely in the wind, but her crystalline wings held strong and stalwart, just as her battle suit once had. She looked down at her arm, curious of how she could feel the sensation of cold but yet experience no ill effect.
Enjoying the advantages of your new body? A familiar voice asked her, thrumming in the back of her mind.
Her haggard face twisted hard. He had clamped down on her vocal cords sharp enough that she could make no sound at all.
You should enjoy it, soothed Discord. You have finally achieved perfection of self. The pinnacle of all that the Red Huntress is and could be.
The muscles in her throat strained hard with a snarl.
There was an edge of humor in his voice. Even more perfect now that you cannot whine at me.
That did it. Valerie materialized a sword from the shards of her crystalline wings. She stabbed the ground with the sharp blade, and it slid hard through the snow to pierce the earth. She imagined it was Discord's head.
He laughed. Ah, ah, my dear. Save your violence for your dear lover, who even now searches for you.
Her full lips tightened. Her dead heart fluttered at the thought of Dan—he was not her lover—and yet, anxiety made her clench the hilt of her sword. She tentatively reached out with her ghost sense, teasing the edges of the valley.
Nothing yet.
He will arrive soon. Discord's voice darkened. And he brings the stench of Clockwork—
Before she could think, suddenly everything went dark, and her consciousness was shoved to the far back of her mind once more.
Discord's territory, Dan realized, was expanding. What had begun as a small spot in the north pole was slowly stretching down across the northern hemisphere, leeching into the continents with an unsettled air. The wind howled like mourning wolves, tossing up snowflakes in swirls and tornadoes.
In that moment, Dan slammed down to the earth in a blur, the earth shaking with the force of his entry. He stood up to his full height and stared out at the vast wasteland of Discord's lands.
The full sclerae of his eyes burned a hot white with the vortex of energy within him. His glow was brighter across his body with the power Clockwork had afforded him.
"It's time, Discord," he called out, his deep voice dark, "for me to take back what is mine."
There was a beat or two of silence as the snow shifted. And then, a familiar form materialized before him, the threads of her power beating against his like a heartbeat.
Valerie phased in before him. Her wings stretched out to catch the dim light of the snowstorm. Her voice echoed with Discord's voice, her face twisted with an expression of dark glee that was not at all natural. "You want me?" she called out. Her dark hand stretched out, and one of the shards of her wings detached, reforming into a sharp blade in her palm. "But I'm already taken."
The glow of his eyes brightened with fury. "Stop hiding behind Valerie, and fight me yourself."
Valerie's head tilted, and her beautiful hair shifted across her shoulders, lifting up with the wind. "Don't be a hypocrite, sweetheart. You're fighting someone else's battle too." And then she delicately lifted her nose in the air, inhaling deeply. "I can sense my brother's power on you."
He bared a fang at the term of endearment, and then he paused. "…Brother?"
"Oh, he forgot to mention it? How typical." Valerie's eyes glittered. "He usually does forget to mention the important details. He likes his puppets ignorant."
"I'm not his puppet. I just want Valerie."
The ghost drove her blade into the ground and pulled away her hand from it. "But that's too bad." Valerie ran a hand through her hair, her wings swiveling up in a lazy stretch. It accentuated the bare muscles of her stomach and the shadows along the curve of her waist. "Because you see, I rather want to keep her myself. I like the way you burn in jealousy when you stare at her under my power."
His eyes narrowed to slits. "If you seek to make me your personal enemy, rest assured you are well on your way to oblivion."
Valerie's dark lips split open with a smile. It was too wide for her face and made her look unbalanced. "I am eons old, child. I created oblivion."
Dan's hand began to glow with great power. Like this, his senses were honed that he could feel the individual threads of Valerie's power core, the thrum of ectoplasmic blood in her body—"And I am stronger," he snarled, "than you know."
"Are you?" Her hand slipped from her hair, her lithe fingers trailing down the line of her jaw and neck, and then down the valley between her breasts. His eyes tracked the movement. "You're so easily distracted."
Just in time, Dan held out his hand to catch the vicious surge of her crystallized wing. The sharp edges shattered against his palm this time, his skin like steel, and Valerie's lips dropped open in genuine pain, her whole body recoiling back.
Shards fell into the snow, along with drops of ectoplasmic blood.
Her gold eyes narrowed. "You hurt me," she accused, but her voice still carried with Discord's.
"Not the first time," he snapped, eyes dark. "Probably not the last."
Her face twisted. Her beautiful wing now hung without symmetry, a small chunk missing from its edge. It was already beginning to regenerate. "I thought you two were lovers." She licked her lips. "You kissed this face. And yet you would strike it?"
Dan's face tightened. "Her body desires mine, and yet you force it to strike me. Do not be so hypocritical." The word turned hard in his mouth, like molten lava.
Valerie's twisted expression darkened. "Aren't you just cute. Passing blame." The wing hovering over her back shifted in discomfort.
And then she blurred forward.
Dan's fingers glowed a deep green as he raised up a barrier. It held strong against her, glimmering with sparks. The bright white of his eyes narrowed. "I know she is still in there," he murmured. "I prefer to injure only you, Discord."
Valerie's feet slid into the snow as she rebalanced, her eyes glowing hot. "You can't," she hissed. "You lack the powers to separate her from me." And then she slammed her fingers onto the barrier, the glimmer of light from her wings storming through her skin to blast against his own power.
The barrier faded out.
Dan surged forward. With his increased strength, he seemed able to teleport right before Valerie, slamming her back into the snow.
She hit the ground with a heavy thump. He straddled her, eyes hard as he pressed his hands against her temple. Everything seemed closer to him. His heightened senses allowed him to feel the individual atoms constructing her power, her form.
It was like seeing the world reborn.
"I feel you," he snarled. "I feel the bright light she is, and the cage you have around her. I will cut you out from her core." And then he shoved his power into her.
Valerie's gold eyes widened, and she arched against him in pain, her full lips opening in a gasp. He shoved his elbows down onto her arms to pin her tightly, raising up a small barrier around him. The sharp edges of her wings bounced off him harmlessly as she struggled.
His brows knitted together as he stared down at her, gazing through her to the threads of her power. Her core was a storm like his own. Beautiful. Commanding.
Like this, he could feel her—the true Valerie—reaching out to him. Her power curled around his own with a vice-like grip, sharp and violent like the rest of her. And yet, he longed to feel more of her. To separate her from the inky black that was Discord.
She was scared and exhausted from fighting.
"I've got you," he murmured, focusing his power on Discord's control. It felt as spiderwebs. The webs began to shrink away from him, vibrating in pain from his focused attack.
Beneath him, the body of Valerie gasped again, trembling as she stared up at him, her eyes slowly widening with her own soul.
"No," suddenly snarled a deep voice from behind. "You will not take her."
Before Dan could move, he felt a great pain tear down his back and a skeletal hand wrench him away from Valerie by the ear.
He hissed, his red eyes glowing hot beneath his power as he swiped at the new adversary. The hand released him, and he fell to the side, narrowly avoiding the sharp metal armor along Valerie's legs. But then the hand roughly dragged him off Valerie and pulled him up. A rotted snake tail came into view. Then black and purple cloth.
Discord.
"You," Dan snarled and grabbed onto the new ghost's arm, sinking his nails into the cloth. He released a great wave of energy, blasting the being back. "Finally choosing to show your face now?"
The snake-like creature fell to the snow in a tumble, and it was just enough time for Dan to right himself, protectively placing himself between Discord and an unconscious Valerie.
The other ghost quickly pulled himself up and turned to face Dan—
—and Dan's expression turned to one of disgusted curiosity.
Discord's upper half was humanoid, but his eyes were missing, the sockets a pulpy mash of scar tissue. The being pulled the material back over his ruined, green face, and for a time, he remained silent. His snake tail coiled back and forth in the snow, stretching out in an irritated fashion. He called out, "You come to my territories, and you attempt to steal away my servant? I think you'll find I'm not like the other ghosts you so love to boss around."
Dan growled, his lip baring a sharp fang. "Valerie is not yours. And neither are these lands—they are all mine."
The being before him leaked out an ectoplasmic signature that was muted—slipping between the threads of reality like webs, twisting around even Dan and Valerie's cores. It was a deep unsettling to feel Discord. Though where Clockwork's power was like a great wall, Discord's was like a flexing wave. Something about him felt ancient, like sarcophagi and ruins of cities.
"On the contrary," the older ghost declared in a furious amusement, "all things are mine. This world's entropy. Its losses—all of it belongs to me." He waved a skeletal hand into the snowy air. "Even you. The world has not seen this much chaos since I helped Fate engineer the Black Plague. But truly, you have exceeded even that glorious death count."
Dan felt a coldness seep into him, recalling the form of the ghost woman who had healed him and dropped him into Clockwork's lair. She'd said she was an enemy of Discord…"What do you mean?"
"I mean, Phantom, that you are my protégé in every way. Causing entropy wherever you go, even in the heart of your once-enemy, the Red Huntress." His head tilted. "Why, my powers grow stronger simply with your presence. But I suppose Clockwork didn't warn you of that."
And then the beast snapped his fingers, and suddenly the snow stopped falling around them. It instead reversed its trajectory to fall up into the sky.
Dan back-stepped in surprise of the defiance of physics.
Discord snapped his fingers again, and the snow banks on the ground shifted into sand—the nearby trees drying up into husks as the temperature sharply increased around them. "That's the problem with my brother. He tells you only a piece of things."
The younger ghost turned back to look at Valerie, who was still crumpled against a sand dune, her great wings limp. Her core thrummed, regenerating from the damage he had inflicted on her.
"But the one thing Clockwork never admits," Discord called to him, "is that his powers of foresight do not differentiate between what can happen and what actually will. The parade can move in any direction, you see. That makes this moment genuine. Your actions novel. My offers real."
"What do you mean," Dan demanded, voice rough. He turned back to Discord, lighting a barrier up around himself and around Valerie's body.
"I am not enough of a fool to fight you," Discord confessed freely. "I see that your powers are increased beyond what you should have at your age. And the majority of my strength is currently…tied up holding off Clockwork's attempts to stop time in this realm of mine." He licked his lip, revealing a dark fang. "I'd like to flip his parade with a deal."
"A deal?" Dan repeated incredulously. His face twisted. "If you are so weak, then I will destroy you right now—" And he surged forward, but Discord materialized away.
He turned back, only to see Valerie's body fade out as well.
"—Ah, ah," murmured the ancient ghost. "I simply have a low pain tolerance, not a lack of power." He materialized back into view a safe distance away, smiling. His expression was reminiscent of the one that had once so unsettled Valerie's face. He snapped his fingers again, and the sky suddenly turned a bright pink with smiley-face clouds.
Dan realized that the distortions were likely how Discord was interrupting Clockwork.
"Now," Discord said. "About my deal. I might be willing to release your precious lover for a price. I had many plans to increase the chaos of the human world once more. To see them cower in fear of the very face that protected them—it's a timeless tactics for fun. But I do have my eye on greater prizes, if you are so powerful."
The younger ghost huffed in irritation, feeling out of sorts now that he could no longer feel Valerie's power core in range. "And what prizes are those?"
He lifted up his hood to reveal his scarred eye sockets. "I was once able to see all of the future's possibilities, before my brother stole my eyes. I should like to have them back."
For a time, there was a great silence between them.
Discord snapped his fingers, and the distant tree husks began to shatter into glass. The sound the action produced was a great, echoing screech. Many glass shards transformed into birds that then flew away in panic.
The younger ghost scoffed. "You mean to say that Clockwork stole your eyes?"
"Why, yes. Manipulating time is so much more fun when you can see the whole parade." He inhaled deeply, his fingers sparking with a deep purple power. "He knows I would mutilate him in kind if I ever met him again. So what do you say, young one? Your lover going free, if you can return my eyes?"
Dan stamped his foot down, his eyes glowing hard in dissatisfaction. It seemed with every interaction, the world grew more and more complicated. His simple desire to banter with Valerie in the freedom of the Wastelands was becoming a dream of the past.
"And Valerie? Will it be enough to break her from this…Discord's control?"
"It will be, if you use your powers correctly—"
Discord noted his hesitation and said, "Come now. We're on the same side, you and I. Surely, you desire to see Clockwork fall from his pedestal."
Dan's fist clenched. "I do desire that," he murmured. And then his mind began to race. "But then I'd have to contend with you."
The ancient ghost exhaled with irritation. "A much easier task than with Clockwork, I assure you."
"But you killed Valerie," the younger ghost said. "You tricked her into a deal, and now she is different. If I accept your offer, then I want you to restore her humanity as well."
"…I'm afraid I can't do that. You see, her human life force is what's keeping her father alive. And you know how she is about family." Discord opened a rip in space, pulling the still-limp body of Valerie from it, her wings hanging down in deep sleep, along with the cords of her skirt and the curls of her hair. "But she is still very much herself beneath that power of hers. Unspoiled as well—unless you have already spoiled her."
Dan's fangs bared in anger. "Do not dare to speak of her in such a way."
Discord smiled and shrugged. "Well, I would know these things if I had my eyes. But I digress. What will it be, Phantom? You have an opportunity to save your woman. There is no other way to free her from me, now that I know what you can do."
The younger ghost blasted at Discord, but the being simply blurred out of range.
Another snap.
The sand beneath their feet restructured into glass and shot down to the center of the earth, revealing the planet's core—a bright, reddish-orange light. It hummed beneath them, resonating with their own power cores. Everything was hot.
Dan looked down, his eyes widening. The physical distortions were growing increasingly powerful. It suggested Clockwork was increasingly attempting to break through Discord's power.
He swallowed hard.
"If you wish to free your Huntress from him, you must not feed into chaos, as you so usually do."
A flicker of Valerie's human eyes jolted into his memory. Her bright white smile.
"You're an idiot," she whispered. "But sometimes I like you."
He looked back up at Discord, the winds swirling between them. "…Very well," he declared, voice strained. "I accept your deal, to retrieve your eyes from Clockwork in exchange for Valerie's freedom."
There was a beat of silence between them.
The winds died down. Valerie's limp body still floated in the air above them.
Dan snarled. "But I'll need your powers of disrupting time to do it."
"I would expect nothing less." Discord's eyes glimmered in an odd way, as if he were calculating. As if everything were going to plan. "It will be a joint venture." And then suddenly, Discord reached out his hand. "But I will require precious collateral of your own to ensure you follow through your end of the deal."
His hand began to stretch unnaturally beyond the limitations of normal bones, storming to Dan. Ghost-like fingers wrapped around Dan's throat, and the younger ghost rasped in surprise, attempting to back away to no avail.
Discord's voice darkened. "I need your body."
Dan grabbed onto the unnaturally strong hand, his eyes widening. It felt as if the ghost were choking him. His power core pulsed unnaturally.
He crunched his hand in.
Discord's face twisted in pain but did not give way.
"Hold still," rasped the ghost. "This won't take long."
As a great power warped about Dan, the odd flickers of Discord's power began to wane about Valerie's limp body.
Dan's brows knitted in pain as he tried to pull Discord's hand away. "No," he growled, his voice constricted. His eyes flashed a bright white, and he managed to wrench himself away from Discord. "No."
It seemed that his enhanced abilities from Clockwork were true to form. He was much stronger than he was before.
Discord huffed at him in great irritation. "Do not play games, as I have far greater stamina than you, child. And I will wear down your spirit."
Dan's fingertips sparked a bright white, his eyebrows angling downward in fury. "You will take nothing from me as collateral." His deep voice carried over the winds. "You will return Valerie, or I will destroy you and Clockwork both."
Discord snapped his fingers. The core of the earth turned a deep, sapphire blue. Whales shifted in the glass as if it were an ocean.
"Big words," he murmured, mouth turned downward, "for such a young ghost. But if you are to be so contrary, then I think I'd like to keep you and Valerie as my slaves."
And then he clapped his hands, and Valerie's limp body crashed to the ground. On instinct, Dan reached out to her.
The ancient ghost's extended hand cast an odd, purple barrier around Dan. "Surely," he declared, voice strained, "you appreciate the level of destruction I could carry out with you both at my helm. You exact so much chaos, but I could perfect you in ways you never dreamed."
Dan pounded against the barrier, which shocked him in a similar way to Amity Park's Shield. His dead heart almost seemed to pound as he stared out at the unconscious Valerie.
And then he realized—one of her eyes was open.
She was staring blearily at him, her body still limp save for a few of her fingers, which inched toward a shard of her wing.
But before he could speak or see anything further, a strong force electrocuted him. An uncultured noise of pain slipped from his lips as he fell to one knee, rasping for air. Discord's power clawed into him, searching for his core.
"There," the ancient ghost declared. "I have your core now. You are mine, just as Valerie is. You will do as I say."
Dan gasped for air, the white of his eyes flickering away.
And then suddenly, there was a shing.
Everything stopped.
A half-conscious Dan looked up to the sight of several crystalline shards piercing straight through Discord's power core, with Valerie spun on her elbows, her gold eyes hard.
Discord flickered his gaze to her as he gasped uneasily, his mouth falling open.
Valerie's voice was hoarse, but carried the edge of diamonds with it. "No," she rasped. "He's mine."
The purple barrier around Dan fell away as sparks, and suddenly the ground beneath them faded back into a simple, snowy valley.
Discord swooned in place. "Ngh." He reached out his hand to her, his fingers dimly glimmering. He tried to activate his control over her, but it had weakened. "F-fool."
She wrenched off a shard of her wing once more and threw it—its edge shearing deep into Discord's throat.
The ghost's mouth dropped open as his hands instinctively rose to his throat.
Valerie scrambled up, snow shifting off her curls and her wings as she raised her hands and blasted him, her gold eyes burning bright as the sun. "You're the fool," she snarled. "You focused so hard on him, you forgot about me."
The instant Discord had begun to take Dan's body, the power of his controlling force had begun to wane in Valerie.
Dan resisting had given her just enough time.
The ancient ghost's rotting tail curled in pain. "Th-this is," he hissed, his voice little more than wind, "a f-form only. I can r-regenerate."
Valerie raised her hands, swinging her crystalline wings before her to amplify the blast. "Then take your time with that, sweetheart!" Her form glowed bright, a ray of the sun shooting out from her hands. "And don't come back!"
Discord disappeared before the ray could hit, his face twisting hard in hatred and disappointment. The blast leveled a line of distant trees instead, and Valerie retracted her hands, cursing beneath her breath.
A moan snapped her attention back to Dan.
"No," she breathed, her lithe form surging forward to him. She dropped down beside his body, gently pulling him onto his back. "Oh god. Dan?"
His red eyes were half-lidded, his pallor an ashen gray. His fingertips still sparked with energy, but it was weak.
"Dan!" she cried out, patting his face. Her voice hurt. She did not know if she were truly speaking. "God dammit, snap out of it. Discord's gone for now. But we have to get out of here."
His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and then he exhaled a breath he did not need. "What?" As he opened his eyes, he came face-to-face with the most beautiful image he had ever seen.
Valerie dared to stroke his cheek as she stared at him. "We have to leave now," she said shakily. "And you have to do what you did before—when you were trying to cut him out of me. I don't know if he could still use me against you. Or how long he'll stay down."
Dan was hardly paying attention to her, watching only her full lips move and her hair shift about her face. Her great wings shed light like diamonds around them.
"You're beautiful," he murmured inanely.
She inhaled sharply and then slapped him hard.
That woke him up.
His red eyes widened, and he jerked up in a bleary way, leveling a dark glare at her as he rubbed his abused cheek. "…What the hell was that for?"
"You're being lazy," she hissed, pulling at his arm. Like this, she was strong enough that she lifted him as if he were a sack of potatoes. "I know you're fine. Now get up. We have to go."
He huffed at her incredulously, still rubbing his cheek. "I just saved your afterlife," he complained. "You're supposed to kiss me and be soft."
"No, I just saved your afterlife," she corrected.
"But I started the process."
"Oh, started the process? You almost got yourself enslaved like me." She took on more of his weight as he stumbled forward in the snow. "What the hell was your strategy?"
He gave a bleary sniff as he tried to move with his stuttering power core. Likely, Discord would have succeeded in cowing his spirit without Clockwork's power boost. "Clockwork said not to add to the chaos," he complained. "I am a terrible judge of these things, you know. I do not know how to not add to chaos."
Valerie groaned. "You are so fucking hopeless." She shifted his arm around her shoulder, her wing slipping beneath one of his arms to make for a more comfortable hold. "Can't you even walk on your own?"
Dan's face twisted. "Perhaps I would if you would share your energy. I just took a hit that would have felled a lesser ghost."
"…How do you ghosts share energy?"
His lips stretched, revealing a fang. "One option is by kissing."
Valerie paused at that. And then she groaned.
Later, the two ghosts found themselves in the sunset-washed plains beside the mountains, nearly halfway home to Amity Park. Valerie sat upon the ground, looking stiff and uncomfortable as Dan kneeled before her. He looked a good deal healthier, his skin flush with color. But his eyes carried dark circles, belying the energy drain that still haunted him.
He grimaced a bit, his body aching, but he reached out to her, his fingertips sparking with the bright-white power. "This may hurt you."
"Do it," she said, voice tense but strong. She stared ahead, looking as unmovable as the sun. "I don't want any part of Discord in me."
"Because you'd rather have me in you?" Dan murmured as his fingers touched her temples.
Her gaze flickered to his with a sharp glare. "I'll have you know, I—"
-And then, in her distraction, he activated his energy, storming through the threads of her power core, searching for Discord's webs. Valerie gasped, her strong hands grabbing onto his forearms. Her muscles flexed hard in pain.
Dan's bright-white sclerae narrowed. "I feel him," he said, voice rough. "There are threads remaining. I have to pull it from you."
"Do it," she demanded tightly.
And then he closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against hers as he channeled his energy into her, burning away the shadows and the broken spider webs. He could feel the remnants of Discord's energy cry out.
Or maybe it was Valerie crying. She was trembling as he worked, her power core flickering.
"Hold on," he demanded. It came out as more of a plea. "Just a little longer."
She pressed her full lips together, blinking away hard tears. "It hurts, dammit," she whispered. It felt as if he were stabbing her repeatedly in the chest, the pain throbbing up her spine into the cavity of her brain, and suddenly, her vision bled a bright white—
"—There. I have you," he said, voice straining. The glow died away from his fingers, he pulled her to him, embracing her hard.
Valerie's face was streaked with tears as she leaned into his strong shoulder, rasping hard. Her whole body trembled for a time, her core raw from being pulled and sliced. It was all she could do to focus on the feeling of his body, the hum of his own regenerating core, the comforting stroke of his fingers down the back of her neck.
The sun was beginning to set around them, her wings catching the light and casting reds and greens around them. They were slumped against her and the ground, as if too heavy for her to move.
And for several moments, Dan and Valerie remained that way, their shadows combined as one.
"That," she whispered hoarsely, "did not feel good."
His deep voice was a vibration against her hair, soft in a tease just for her. "Neither did your slap after I'd just been knocked down by Discord."
Valerie groaned. "I was trying to make you move."
"Kissing me would have had a similar effect."
She hid her face in his neck more. "I don't wanna deal with this right now," she whined, voice muffled. "I'm tired."
He hummed. "The great Valerie Gray—admitting a weakness?"
"Shut up."
Dan's thin lips stretched, a spark of his old dark mischief lighting his face. "Of all things, I thought I would hear your moans of pleasure far before hearing you admit a weakness."
She poked his side where she knew he was ticklish. He jerked lightly. "I've had a rough day," she complained.
"As have I," he deadpanned.
"You're not the one who got their voice stolen," she said, voice still muffled against his neck. It was a beautiful sound to him. "You're not the one who's stuck dead wearing next to nothing. And you're definitely not the one who killed my dad's scouts." Her breath hitched. "I think I killed them when I was under. Oh my god, I think I did."
Dan paused for a time, daring to roll his eyes. "Your value on human life far exceeds my own. They were only scouts."
She tensed in his arms and tiredly pulled away, the moment broken. In that moment, she seemed aged. "No. They weren't only scouts. They were brothers and sisters and sons and daughters, and—" She waved a glowing hand. "Why the hell am I trying." She began to scoot away, grimacing as she tested the weight of her wings. The armored plating down her legs clinked as she self-consciously tried to cover herself more. "It's not like I can even go back now that I'm…this."
The other ghost's eyes watched her curiously. "Your people adore the Red Huntress," he said slowly. "Your father yearns for your return, even knowing that you are dead."
"How do you know that?" she said glumly.
"I spoke to him. He led me to your location. Although I suppose the outfit you wear would be…shocking. I do prefer you wear so little only around me."
Valerie raised gold eyes to him, caught between irritation and amusement. "It's not like I chose this. Discord did this to me."
"And if he ever shows his face again, he will regret it," Dan promised. "I despise him as much as I do Clockwork. I hope the two destroy each other."
A silence fell between them. "You realize," Valerie said, "we might have to fight him again. He said he can regenerate. And his powers…I mean, he hurt my dad. He killed me. He's ancient in ways that I don't even understand."
Dan raised a brow. "Is that worry I hear from you?"
"It's realism," she deadpanned. "If he could hurt us once, he could do it again."
It was such a strange concept. Us.
Dan fell silent at the thought, searching Valerie's eyes. "We are stronger together," he murmured. "You are a powerful ghost in your own right, and Clockwork has afforded me new abilities. We can hold them off, even if we cannot destroy them."
Valerie pressed her full lips together. "I'd feel better about all this if I still had my suit." She crossed her arms over her chest, for the first time looking awkward. Her voice was a whisper of pain. "I feel naked like this."
His lips stretched. "On the contrary, Valerie dear. Do you not realize what you have been doing all this time?" He reached out and flicked a shard of her wings. "This is your battle suit. Separate and yet not. An extension of your energy."
She turned her head, eyes widening. "But it's not a battle suit," she argued.
"You can reform it," he said, delighted by her ignorance of ghosthood. "Do you not recall the blades you tried to skewer me with? Discord perhaps clothed you like a whore, but your wings are truly your own."
Valerie's face tightened, and she shoved him. "I'm not a whore, jerk. And if I can reform them, why the hell aren't they reforming?"
He let out a huff of amusement. "Hold out your hand. I know a thing or two about manipulating ectoplasm."
Valerie placed her glowing hand in his, eyes hard. "Don't do anything stupid. Or I'll hit you."
"The trick is to channel your energy into a singular image." He pressed his lips together tightly and closed his eyes.
The thin, red material across her shoulders began to expand into a soft material over the full of her body, tight like a jumpsuit. And suddenly, the crystal ectoplasm of her wings began to sink and reform against her skin, the shards interlocking into smooth plates, like battle armor.
And soon enough, Valerie Gray sat before him, her crystalline armor glimmering in the dusk.
"There." He slid his hand from hers and opened his eyes.
Valerie was staring down at herself in awe, feeling truly covered for the first time in days. She raised an arm, noting how the crystal plating moved with her like a second skin—like her old battle suit. She looked back up at him, her full lips dropped open.
He waggled his brows. "You can always retract your suit back into wings. So that I may touch you as lovers do."
She paused for a second, half-thinking to slap him because it was their usual way of bantering.
But then she leaned forward and kissed him instead. He made a noise of surprise, his red eyes widening. The instant his mind caught up with his mouth, he kissed her back, stretching her lips open and weaving his hand into her hair.
By the time they arrived at the border of Amity Park, it was fully dark. The resistance, having registered two very powerful signatures incoming quickly, had deployed a squadron to the rim of the Shield. It was a standard precautionary measure whenever Dan Phantom neared the Shield. But the addition of an unknown signature made everyone edgy.
Only one of them knew who it was.
Damon Gray stood at the forefront of the squadron, waiting with bated breath. He knew it was Valerie. The pulse of her signature was as strong as Phantom's, and Phantom would have never allowed such a strong ghost to race alongside him if it were not Valerie.
"We've got incoming," said a solider next to him, pushing a button on his visor. "Your orders, sir?"
"Stand at attention, weapons lowered," the father replied, voice strained. "No one shoots. Phantom's not here to attack."
"But the other signature—"
"—You'll see," said Damon. "It's an ally."
And just as he finished speaking, the two ghosts appeared over the horizon, shining like stars in the sky. Their forms were simply white in that second, but as they flew closer, Damon could make out the lines of…
"Valerie?" he breathed.
His baby girl landed with grace before the Shield. She stood tall beside Phantom, glowing as a ghost did. The red and black of her usual battle suit had transformed into a substance that gleamed with greens and blues. Her hair moved of its own volition.
She looked quite dead—and yet somehow, a thousand times more alive.
Her gold eyes brightened with tears. "Dad."
Damon took one look at Dan. The male ghost stared at them all with arms crossed, relatively dissatisfied at being near Amity Park once more. But Damon did not care. Without further preamble, he moved beyond the Shield, opening his loving arm for his daughter. Her breath hitched at the sight, and she swooped in, her plated arms wrapping about his form, hiding her glowing face in his neck.
The other soldiers around the Shield had frozen in awe.
"My baby girl," Damon whispered in great pain. "My baby girl."
Valerie's breath hitched. "I'm here," she whispered. Her voice carried a slight echo with it. "I'm still right here, dad."
He was warm—so very warm with the blood of the living. It was disquieting to feel the difference between him and his living breath.
She knew immediately what Dan had meant, all the times when he had commented about the beauty of her warmth. At least…when she had been living.
Damon pulled back, eyeing her. His hand came up to touch her face, in awe of her ghostly distortions—that this otherworldly creature was his daughter. "Look at you," he murmured. His eye misted with tears.
She leaned into his touch. "It's not all bad," she whispered, "is it?"
"No," Damon breathed. His fingers slipped from her cheek. "My god, I can feel the power off of you."
Valerie smiled. Her teeth shined a bright white. "I can still defend our city. Just…maybe not from within it." She gave a hesitant look at the Shield. She carried a heavy weight in her expression, as if recalling the faces of the scouts who had perished by her power.
A great pull came over Damon's heart then, realizing that they would still be separated. "I'd take it down if we could," he told her softly.
"Don't ever take that Shield down," she told him, a firmness coming over her. "The Wastelands are even more dangerous than I thought. These ghosts coming in, they're…"
Dan uncrossed his arms, raising his nose at Damon. "They are beyond your weaponry," he declared in boredom. "You will be useful only to keep the rabble out, if any of you should be brave enough to venture outside your bubble."
Valerie leveled a glare at him, but it did not carry the fire it so usually did. She turned back to her father and said, "I'm still kinda…getting used to this whole ghost thing. But I'm not gonna leave you guys. I'll protect Amity Park with everything I have."
The father swallowed hard. "Where will you stay? How do I reach you?"
"Make me a new communicator," she said. "And…I guess I don't have to sleep anymore? So I don't—I don't know where I'll stay at nights. But probably somewhere close."
Dan cut in, a devilish look flickering across his face. "She'll sleep with me."
At that, Valerie's face flushed with a curious green, seeping up all the way to her ears. She raised her bare hand and blasted him back into a nearby fallen beam.
Then she turned to her father, whose mouth had dropped open. "Don't worry," she said dryly. "I can handle him."
And from behind, Dan spoke again as he righted himself from the ground, as if she hadn't just nearly broken him in two. "You can handle me, Valerie dear." He wiped the dust off his sleeve and sniffed. "That is an invitation."
Meanwhile, in the farthest distances of the Ghost Zone, one ghost named Fate leaned back against the wall, huffing. "He didn't destroy Discord, and Discord didn't destroy him. What a waste of a good fate for them both."
Clockwork hummed as he watched the portal. "Not entirely," he murmured. "Discord made himself no allies, and Phantom is content enough to no longer search me out. Truly, he is enamored with the ghost of his human lover."
Fate rolled her eyes. "Ugh. Please." She crossed her arms. "I wanted him to be a villain who went down fighting—not some lovesick puppy dog traipsing after a girl."
The Master of Time turned away, striking the floor with his scepter. "If it is any consolation to you, my brother will rise again, as the Huntress wounded only his corporeal form. You might yet get your wish, that both Phantom and Discord should meet an untimely end."
The female ghost tilted her head. "But let me guess," she deadpanned. "You want your wish that Phantom goes down like a hero."
"…It is a preferable end for him."
She narrowed her eyes. "That is so cliché." Then she tapped her fingers on her arm and looked at the portal, still swirling with the image of the dead Red Huntress. "He was supposed to be a villain, you know."
"Yes," Clockwork said. "And I was supposed to bring lasting peace and order to the two worlds. But as you may have noticed, Fate, not everything can be written in stone."
A/N: So this one-shot is a birthday gift to Lady Audentium, who over the last year has continued to draw Deliverance fanart and helped me carry along the Dark Gray ship! Discord is her OC and both Discord's design and Valerie's redesign as a ghost are based off of Audi's drawings. Happy birthday, Lady Audentium! Apologies if it's rushed. I literally wrote 15 pages of this thing in like, 24 hours, haha.
Also, per questions I received last chapter, the Voltron: Legendary Defender story I write on AO3 (called The Second Law) features pretty much just Allura/Lotor but I don't mind other ships. Prayers for anyone currently watching S7, omg.
I desperately need to update my AO3 Dan/Val story soon, but I'm considering updating Deliverance with an Aftermath or an all-new one-shot next.
Please review with your thoughts, questions, constructive criticisms, and ideas! And as always, thanks so much for your support!
