Danny, Lancer, and Dr. Alejo make a plan. Too bad the GIW are already here.
Chapter 13: The Best-Laid Plans
Danny paces back and forth across the morgue floor. He hasn't stopped moving since the doctor revealed that last horrifying fact. The Guys in White are on their way. Stupid half-ghost body with its stupid healing ectoplasm. It couldn't have let him die? He winces as soon as the thought crosses his mind. He doesn't really mean that. Dying sucks. He's already done it once. Or twice, now. So it did let him die, but it didn't let him stay dead. Danny is okay with that, but he wishes that it didn't happen in such an inconvenient way.
According to the doctor, his chart didn't reveal much about what the surgeon saw when poking around his insides. A foreign substance. A lot of it? A little? Did it bubble and fester around his intestines? Did it heal the cuts they made as they were making them? Increasingly grotesque images pop into his head until all he can imagine is a stew of bubbling ectoplasm filling him up inside. They had been able to finish the surgery without issue, so Danny hopes his wild imagination is just that: wildly imaginative.
"I could barely get you open without the ectoplasm melting my tools. Whatever they saw, it can't have been as bad as what I saw," the doctor says.
Danny's stomach flips. Get you open. She says it casually as if it's another day at the office for her. It sort of is. She's studying to be a morgue doctor. Autopsies are, or at least will be, a routine procedure for her. She was just doing her job and trying to find out what killed him. It still makes Danny sick to think about. The idea of anyone leaning over his open body cavity and poking around his insides chills him. He wraps his arms around his stomach and shudders, fighting back the urge to vomit.
It's not just the attempted autopsy that scares him, but the surgery as well. His fingers dig into his stomach, tracing the raised skin of his new scars. The doctor's Y incision overlaps with the surgical incision, leaving a single scar. He was cut open and examined twice in one day. He got lucky, being unconscious both times, but isn't willing to test that luck against the Guys in White. Not again.
Danny pivots to face Lancer and the doctor. "I can't let them take me. They'll—you don't even want to know what they'll do to me." He doesn't even want to know what they'll do to him. But, thanks to his parents and their tendency to ramble, he has a good idea of what's in store. Pulling things apart molecule by molecule may be standard practice in the ghost hunting industry for all he knows.
There's only one thing left he can do.
"I'm leaving." The transformation rings make it halfway across his chest before Danny's body jolts and he drops to his knees. His heart throbs in his chest. He can feel the beat in his fingers, the back of his head, behind his eyes. Despite being in human form, he glimpses his aura spiking all around him. He has no idea what it's saying, has no control over it, but the light soothes him. He focuses on the pale glow until his breathing evens out and the thrumming fades. The light goes with it. Now calm enough to pay attention to his surroundings again, he notices the doctor and Lancer crouched on either side of him. Their hands keep him steady.
"Are you alright?" Lancer squeezes Danny's shoulder.
"Where does it hurt?" the doctor pulls out her penlight and flashes it in Danny's eyes. He never even noticed her retrieve it from the floor.
"Will you stop that!" He smacks her hand down. "I'm fine—I think." His limbs shake too much for him to stand up on his own. He leans on Lancer instead, letting his teacher pull him up and guide him onto the autopsy table. Danny perches on the edge.
"Everything aches still but it doesn't hurt. But when I tried to use my powers—" Danny rubs his chest. He doesn't know what that had been. It wasn't like the stabbing pain he felt earlier that day. That had been his heart—he thinks. This felt deeper. Different. If he has to guess, he would say it felt like his core. He holds his arm out and turns it invisible. The thrumming in the back of his head gets louder, but not unbearable. The invisibility spreads over his shoulder, his chest, until his whole body is out of sight. His head swims and it's hard to focus through the noise, but it doesn't bring him to his knees again.
"I can use my powers, but it looks like full ghost form is a no-go." Danny clenches his fist. "I'm still getting out of here."
"Danny, wait." Lancer stops Danny from sliding off the table with a hand to his chest. "You can't just leave.
"Uh, yeah, I can. I'm not staying here so that I can get dissected again." He'll figure something out.
"But your parents."
"Don't know anything."
"Exactly. And they're on their way."
Danny's eyebrows shoot up. He highly doubts that. His mom said they were going out of town. That's code either for an extended ghost hunt or experimenting with dangerous weapons that they can't safely test inside the city limits. His parents already do a poor job of checking their phones. If you put them out in the wilderness with nothing but their ghost weapons and plenty of open space, then checking on their children will be the last thing on their minds.
"If you leave now, the only news they will get when they arrive is that you died and then your body disappeared," Lancer says.
Danny frowns. That's not ideal, but there must be a way around it. He asks, "They could just not come, right? I could go home and pretend nothing ever happened." Chances are, his mom and dad won't check their phones until they're already home. It wouldn't be hard to slip the phones from their pockets and delete the missed calls, leaving them none the wiser.
The doctor shakes her head. "You were declared dead hours ago. It's already in the hospital records. Lancer confirmed your identity before they took you down to the morgue. Going home and not acknowledging it would appear even more strange."
Danny's gaze jumps to Lancer. His teacher stares at him, unflinching.
"Too many people saw you and your body for us to play this off as an accident," the doctor says.
"Then, you can tell them I'm alive. I freaked out and ran away or something like that."
Again, she shakes her head. "I wasn't even supposed to have your body. My shift ended hours ago. Amity Park has been through some wild things, but I don't think anyone would believe that. Besides, you want to go home eventually, right?"
Danny doesn't know how to answer that right now. The simple answer is yes, or it should be. He should want to go home. Does he, though? What is home right now? An empty house ninety percent of the time. Disapproving parents the other ten percent. With Jazz gone, it's not the same.
"Danny?" Lancer presses.
Whatever his parents learn when they arrive, they'll tell Jazz. Danny would never ghost her—or his friends—without letting them know that he's okay, but if he can't access his full range of powers right now, then he can't go to Jazz himself to tell her. He doesn't have his phone, doesn't have any of their numbers memorized. If he runs away now, he can't know when he will be able to speak to them next without risking the Guys in White coming down on them.
"I couldn't do that to Jazz," he says. Or Sam. Or Tucker. "I want to be able to go home, for her."
"Then we need to be smart about this," the doctor says.
"We?"
"Somehow you keep forgetting that you're my patient. Ghost or human, it doesn't matter. Your health is my priority now."
"Except when you're cutting me open," Danny mutters.
"Let's call that the exception that proves the rule." The doctor nods, looking satisfied with herself.
"That's not how that works," Lancer says.
"Are you sure? I hear people say that a lot."
"As an educator, I can assure you that you're wrong."
"Hm, I don't think so."
Now isn't the time for bickering, but Lancer and the doctor sniping back and forth over something so simple and stupid fills Danny with warmth. They remind him of Sam and Tucker, and all of their stupid arguments. Real vs fake plants is the latest one Danny remembers overhearing. Danny muffles his laughter in his palm.
"I feel sorry for all of your teachers," Lancer says.
The doctor shrugs. "You and me both. That's not what matters right now, though. How far outside of town is the Guys in White facility?"
"It can't be far, can it?" Lancer asks.
"Three hours at the speeds they drive," Danny says. "Don't ask me how I know."
"I would very much like to know how you know that."
"Don't worry about it." Lancer does indeed appear worried, staring intently at Danny. He kicks his feet and looks anywhere that isn't at his teacher.
"Three hours. Your surgery ended sometime after eleven. Someone would have called them around then. It's," the doctor checks her watch, "Two twenty-three now. They'll be here soon."
"That doesn't give us much time to figure something out," Lancer says.
"Then that's our goal, right?" Danny glances between Lancer and the doctor. "We just need to buy enough time."
Carmen smiles at a passing nurse. "Afternoon." She speaks between puffs of breath. It's surprisingly easy to work up a sweat while jogging in place. Carmen was worried she wouldn't be able to do it, but she is only five minutes in and already running out of breath. Maybe that says more about her fitness level than the effectiveness of the task. It works either way. The nurse, a slip of a woman with mousy features, gives her an odd look.
"Got to stay limber." Carmen drops into a squat and stretches out her legs.
The nurse shakes her head as she rounds the corner.
Carmen waits a few seconds to make sure the nurse is gone before popping back up. By now, her cheeks are flushed and her heart pounds in her chest. Creeping forward, she peers around the same corner the nurse disappeared around and locates her target. There, leaning against the nurses' station, is the morgue attending. Carmen ducks out of sight before anyone can notice her. She only has one chance to sell this. For good measure, she pulls a few curls out of her ponytail and shakes her head vigorously to get a few flyaways. Now she's ready.
"He's alive!" Carmen cries out. "Oh, my God, he's alive!" She charges around the corner and runs straight for the morgue attending, nearly bowling him over.
The older man stumbles under Carmen's weight but holds her steady. "Alejo? What are you still doing here? What are you going on about?"
"The– the Fenton boy." Carmen hunches over, bracing herself on her knees as she struggles to catch her breath for real. "He was– his teacher. Asked to see the body. Say goodbye." She needs to exercise more. "I thought it would be okay, you know? He just– just wanted to see him. I brought him down there but– but– Danny Fenton is alive!"
The attending's eyes widen. "Show me."
Internally, Carmen moans at having to run more. Externally, she nods and charges back down the hallway. They jog to the stairs, forgoing the slow elevator, and head down to the basement. Carmen leads him to the morgue. Not Phantom's morgue at the end of the hall, but the newly renovated one that the hospital actually uses. She throws open the door, revealing Danny sitting on the floor next to an open body drawer—the same drawer Carmen took him from less than an hour ago.
Lancer crouches next to Danny with a hand on his shoulder.
"What's going on?" Danny's voice trembles.
"Holy shit." The attending rushes forward to check Danny's vitals. He presses a hand to Danny's neck and starts counting beats while watching his watch. "Do you know where you are?"
"The hospital. I don't know which one," Danny says.
The attending nods. "Amity West. Do you know your name?"
"Danny Fenton. Is there something wrong with me?"
The attending doesn't answer. He rushes through a routine check of Danny's health, listening to his breathing, looking for signs of concussion, testing his mental state with various questions. "What's today's date?"
"I don't know. My head hurts and everything is kind of fuzzy."
The attending leans back, bracing himself on his knee. "Fuzzy how?"
"Like... the last few days are hazy. I can't..." Danny presses a hand to his head. "I can't remember. Can I go home?"
Carmen has to admit that she doubted Danny's ability to pull off this charade. He might have experience maintaining two different personas, but she found out his secret within an hour of meeting him. That doesn't inspire much confidence. Double life or not, he's still a teenager. How good could his acting be? Pretty damn good, apparently. Although, in Carmen's opinion, he's laying it on a little thick with all the shaking.
"No, not yet," the attending cuts in. "We some people who are here to see you. There's no easy way to put this, but you died today, Danny."
Danny whimpers. He glances at Carmen again and says, "I want to go home." His voice cracks. Maybe it isn't all acting.
"Is that really okay?" Lancer asks. "He just woke up. We don't want to overwhelm him."
"Dr. Alejo, can you please go find a wheelchair? I want to bring Danny up to an examination room. We should check his incision and make sure he's okay before the Guys in White get involved," the attending says.
Carmen throws herself forward, stepping between Danny and the attending. "I did that already! He's all bandaged up. His stitches are fine. I don't think you need to look at them right now."
"Alejo, I'll decide that for myself. Get him upstairs and situated while I go talk to the GIW."
She wants to argue further, but the attending fixes her with a sharp glare. Perhaps literally throwing herself between him and the patient hadn't been a good idea, but she can't let him see Danny's healed chest
"Yes, sir," Carmen says. She speeds out of the room. The attending follows behind her. Once they're out in the hall again, he puts a hand on her shoulder and stops her.
"Keep a close eye on him. I saw his body myself when it was first brought down here. Whatever happened is a miracle, but that all depends on if that really is Danny Fenton in there. Got it?"
Carmen swallows her nerves and nods. When she heads back into the morgue, Danny is hugging his knees and shaking.
"This isn't going to work," he says.
"It is," Carmen reassures him. She grabs a wheelchair from the corner of the room—one she put there for precisely this reason—and brings it over. "You just need to do exactly as we planned, and it'll be okay."
"Danny." Lancer kneels in front of Danny and places his hands on the boy's shoulders. "I am not going to let anything happen to you, okay? You are my favourite student, after all."
"I call bullshit on that."
"Language."
Danny gets settled in the chair. He still has Carmen's jacket, now draped over his lap rather than around his shoulders. She hasn't bothered asking for it back yet. He looks like he could use a little comfort right about now. The examination rooms are on the second floor. Usually, the hospital uses these rooms for patient check-ups or as extra space if the emergency room fills up. The staff elevator by the morgue opens up around the corner from the examination rooms when it hits the second floor. Carmen, Lancer, and Danny exit on the first floor. Danny ducks his head as they head for the lobby, twisting the arm of Carmen's jacket in his hands.
"Head up, kid," Carmen reminds him.
Danny stiffly raises his head.
Lancer pulls a face at Carmen. "I know it's not fun being paraded around, but people need to see you," he says to Danny. "The more people, the better."
"Right. So there are more witnesses when the GIW come and take me away," Danny mutters.
"That's not going to happen."
Carmen wants to believe Lancer's words. It's hard when the first thing she sees as they reach the lobby is two broad-shouldered men in white suits. All three of them freeze. The agents are angled away from them, talking to the attending. Carmen had hoped they still had time before the agents arrived. It seems Danny's return to life is the only miracle they're getting that day. The lobby elevators are to the left, only a few paces away, but it puts them parallel to the agents. A turn of the head is all it would take to see them.
Danny sits completely rigid, gripping the armrests as if they're the only things holding him up. Lancer recovers first. He steps around Carmen, moving to her right side so that his body acts as a barrier between Danny and the agents. Slowly, they make their way to the elevators. This time, Carmen doesn't tell Danny to lift his head. Enough hospital staff saw them on the way over, anyways.
Lancer hits the call button the instant it's within reach. The numbers over the door light up one by one as the elevator comes down. Fifth floor. Fourth floor.
Carmen can't resist. She glances over her shoulder at the agents. The taller of the two is staring right at them. Carmen's head snaps forward. Maybe he isn't paying attention. Maybe he hasn't seen Danny yet. There are hundreds of patients in this hospital and there's no way he could know who is in the chair right now.
Third floor. Second floor.
"Excuse me," a deep voice says.
Carmen goes rigid. The agent isn't touching her, but he stands so close that she can feel him. It makes the back of her neck prickle. She looks back at him and gets a face full of his jacket. She has to tilt her head back to meet the agent's gaze. Damn him for being so tall. And damn her genetics for making her so short.
"Is that Daniel Fenton?" the agent asks.
Carmen's jaw clenches. Is it illegal to lie to the Guys in White? "No, it's—"
"Yes, he is," the attending interrupts her, coming up behind them. The second agent follows right after him.
Carmen ducks her head as the tall agent glowers at her.
"We were called in about an anomaly," he says.
"Well, as you can see, this is a boy who has had a very long day and is very tired. Look, he's even asleep," Lancer says. A peek at Danny reveals he has slumped over in the wheelchair, head tipped forward. His chest rises and falls with the gentle rhythm of sleep.
The elevator dings and the doors open.
"Then you won't mind us coming up with you," the agent says.
Carmen can't think of an argument against that. She catches Lancer's eye. He shakes his head. They can't say no without tipping the agent off somehow. They pile into the elevator. There's plenty of room since hospital elevators have to fit gurneys and medical equipment, but Carmen feels stifled. She stands at the back of the elevator with Danny. Lancer once again puts himself between them and the agents, forcing the two men away. It's hardly subtle, but no one speaks up about it. Just as well. The ride is only a few seconds, but Carmen sweats a little more every time the agent turns his head to look at her. She squeezes the handles of the wheelchair tight to keep her hands from trembling.
The second the doors are open, she rushes out with Lancer on her heels. The heavy steps of the agents follow right behind.
"As I told you, he's our patient before he's yours. We need to do a thorough examination before we let you do anything," the attending says.
"Of course. I'm sure you won't mind us watching, though, would you? Just to make sure there's nothing amiss," the tall agent says.
Carmen stops outside the first open examination room and rounds on the agent. "You can't."
"Excuse me?"
"Patient confidentiality. You aren't his family. We can't have you in the room during any medical procedures."
"We're here for—"
"Are you arresting him or something? Is he being detained?"
The agent's eyes narrow. "Not yet."
"Then you can't come in." Carmen nods to Lancer, who opens the door for her and lets her inside. She quickly wheels Danny in.
"Have a little decency, would you?" Lancer glowers at the agent. The door slams behind him. The sound of ragged breathing fills the room immediately. Danny presses a trembling hand to his mouth.
"You said it would be okay." His voice cracks.
"It will be." Lancer rubs circles on Danny's back.
"This isn't okay."
"Not yet."
Carmen bites her lip. She wants to stay positive, but she's starting to go with Danny on this. The agents are here. She thought they would have time, at least a few minutes, but this is seconds. This is negative seconds. They're not running out of time, the clock has already stopped. She's not ready to give up, though. Danny is her patient and she would sooner throw herself at the Guys in White than let them take him.
"We have a plan. Stick to the plan, and it will be fine." She can't tell who she's trying to comfort with her words, Danny or herself.
There's a knock on the door. "Dr. Alejo," the attending calls through.
"I'll be right back," Carmen says. She ruffles Danny's hair before slipping out of the room, coming nose to chest with the tall agent once again. "Thank you for respecting my personal space."
The agent sniffs in distaste but obliges and steps back. Beside him, the attending stands with his arms crossed and a disapproving scowl on his face.
"The agents here have the right to step in on any procedure," he says. "The Guys in White are a government branch. They have jurisdiction over all ghostly threats. Even if that threat looks like a sixteen-year-old boy."
"This might shock you, but he doesn't just look like a teenage boy. He is a teenage boy. Weird how that works, right?"
"Dr. Alejo!" the attending snaps. "You already broke hospital policy by allowing a non-staff member down into the morgue, much less someone who isn't even related to the boy. He doesn't have parental consent."
"No one has parental consent. His parents aren't even here! I don't care where these thugs came from; Danny has a right to privacy."
"Ma'am." The agent steps forward again. Carmen has to take a step back, until she's up against the door, to avoid a mouthful of his suit jacket. "If we think you are getting in the way of us doing our job, we have the right to detain you."
Carmen glares up at the agent. She refuses to be intimidated. It's hard not to be, though, when he's a foot taller than her and twice as broad. No matter. She won't back down first.
There's a cry of pain from the examination room. The agent tries to shove past her to get to the door. she stumbles backwards when it opens, tripping over the empty wheelchair. It takes her a second to gather herself from the floor. The two agents make a wall of white, blocking her off from the rest of the room. She kicks the wheelchair, sending it into the back of the agents' legs. They let out satisfying yelps of pain as the wheelchair rams into them. It makes them stumble, opening up a gap in the wall for Carmen to peek through.
Lancer lays on the floor, unconscious. Blood dribbles from a small cut on his forehead.
Danny is nowhere to be found.
